


Beautiful World

by slexenskee (Sambomaster)



Series: From the Archives [3]
Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, I Tried, M/M, Mpreg, Sort Of, Time Travel Theory, if I ever finish it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 12:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20082031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sambomaster/pseuds/slexenskee
Summary: He knows how this story ends, and yet he can’t stop himself from repeating it anyway.This time though, he refuses to waste the precious little time they have together. He doesn’t have long before he won’t be able to control himself any longer, until the pull of Adam becomes too much for him to resist. He wants to spend all of it with Shinji, in any capacity he can.





	Beautiful World

**Author's Note:**

> Was so excited for Eva to be on Netflix. Was promptly so sad they nixed one of the few canon homosexual pairings in a non-yaoi anime. 
> 
> so here's some more big gay love from one of my OTP pairings I had originally wanted to post out of storage in excitement out of the new re-broadcasting, but now just gonna post it anyway because fuck them.
> 
> Also I feel like this fandom needs more mpreg, so why not.

Ikari Shinji blinks his way into wakefulness to the visage of a ceiling that’s becoming terribly familiar. The hospital ward. Again. What happened to him this time? 

Oh, that's right. His eyes slip shut. Behind them is the cold and endless darkness of an abyss no human could ever understand.

He feels submerged still, lost in a foreign ocean with pieces of his sense of self still drifting away from him in calm waters. It takes a long time to pull all the pieces of himself back together, and even then he has to wonder if he’s really succeeded in it. It’s hard to say these days. 

_ I don’t want to be alone. _

_ I don’t want to feel this pain. _

Is there really anything wrong with such thoughts? He can’t be the only one who thinks things like this; who wants to run away from all of it. 

“Oh…” His eyes flutter in the blinding light, a figure emerging out of the endless white depths. 

There’s something oddly angelic about it; the way the blinding whitewash light fades so slightly at its ends; the way its edges are linked in an effervescent gold. At first, he thinks he might be dead. His first impression is of his mother, who still seems so close to his grasp— ( _ Is it enough? Well, that’s good for you.)—  _ like a fleeting memory slipping through his fingers. He still feels the weight of her presence. After he blinks a few more times, he then thinks its Rei. 

“Ayanami?”

“Not quite.”

This is what well and truly rouses him. An unrecognizable voice, resonating within him like something foreign and terrifying. Angel, he thinks again. The whiteness fades from his vision; the world returns. It’s a familiar hospital room. But the boy by his side is decidedly unfamiliar to him.

“Who…?” He rubs his eyes. The boy is wearing his school uniform. “Err— um. Do I know you?”

He smiles widely. “Not yet. But I’m very happy to meet you, Ikari Shinji-kun.”

No one’s ever said that to him before, and certainly not with such a tender look on their face. 

“Huh.” Shinji blinks, not sure what else to say.

Upon further inspection, the boy doggedly reminds him of Rei. He’s not entirely sure why, though. Aside from their striking scarlet eyes, they don’t share many similarities. Shinji tilts his head; well, maybe there’s something in the hair. But Rei’s is a pale shade off of blue, while this boy has a tousled head of hair closer to the color of silver. It looks soft, Shinij thinks, inanely. The thought makes him oddly uncomfortable, much like the time he’d accidentally fallen atop a naked Rei. The memory colors his cheeks, and then to avoid the onslaught of embarrassment he promptly opens his mouth to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind;

“Who are you?”

“Nagisa Kaworu.” The boy answers promptly. He’s still smiling at Shinji.

Something about it is oddly infectious. Despite all the pain he’s been through in the past twenty-four hours, he finds himself smiling back. 

//

The boy who burst his way into Shinji’s hospital room is unnerving. It’s the most accurate way Asuka think to describe him, and she’s pretty sure it’s a sentiment shared by everyone else at HQ. On that note though, she’s not entirely sure why. She doesn’t like him because he’s annoying; why everyonw else doesn’t is a bit of a mystery. She tried to wrangle the reason out of Kaji, but predictably he merely deflected her demands with his usual sheepish smile. The only one who had no reaction to him at all was, of course, Ayanami. But that girl was just as weird and bizarre as this boy, so that was no real surprise. Misato-san, Dr. Akagi, even Commander Ikari— they all turned downright frigid whenever his name was mentioned, and she couldn’t figure out why. The other employees of NERV merely seemed unsettled and confused; probably just as in the dark as she was. 

And why was she in the dark, anyway? She was a pilot, wasn’t she? She really ought to know these things! Especially if this boy was supposedly a pilot himself. 

_ Why do we even need another pilot? Aren’t me, baka-Shinji and Ayanami enough?  _

(Isn’t  _ she  _ enough?)

Asuka scowls, and gives up her death glare on the new student to sullenly stare out the window. On his part, Nagisa doesn’t even glance in her direction— as if she isn’t even worth an ounce of his attention. It’s galvanizing. Why does he spend so much time fawning over that idiot Shinji? He’s gone to visit Shinji every day since he arrived here, even ignoring meetings with NERV personnel and classes just to sit by his side and do basically nothing as Shinji recovers from his traumatic experience with Leliel. 

At the thought of Leliel, Asuka bristles again. 

That’s another reason she hates the new transfer student. Not only are the three of them apparently not enough, he’s even  _ better  _ than all of them combined. And their fight with Leliel only solidified that. Asuka and Rei were useless, Shinji had gone and got himself swallowed up, and before they could even attempt to rescue him Unit 01 went berserk  _ again  _ and did the job itself. Their recent performance was abysmal, and she was sure that was exactly what Misato was going to relay to the higher-ups in whatever meeting she’d been whisked off to in Shinji’s place. Asuka has to assume that, in light of their recent failure, Nagisa Kaworu and Unit-03 were dispatched from America. Why else would they wait so long to reveal a new unit, as well as a new pilot? The timing was too convenient. To make matters worse, apparently his synch tests were off the charts in comparison to all of theirs. 

Asuka once again turns her ire to the unmoved transfer student a few rows ahead of her, diligently gathering up his papers as the bell rings above them. He doesn’t appear rushed, but his movements are fluid and quick nonetheless. He’s probably eager to once again return to his vigil by Shinji’s side— what a weirdo. 

“Can I help you, Soryu-san?” He asks then, with that damnably indecipherable polite smile. 

She stirs out of her thoughts, scowling. “Yeah. Do me a favor and stay the hell away from me.”

He blinks. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks, and the concern seems so genuine it annoys her. 

She bares her teeth at him. “Oh, fuck off. Just go back and return to pining over Shinji.”

To her annoyance, he just laughs. “I hadn’t realized I’d stopped.”

She had meant it as an insult, but it was clear he either was as totally ignorant to human interaction as Ayanami was, or he was intentionally acting oblivious. Either way it was only making her hate him further. 

“Whatever. Weirdo.” She hauls her bag over her shoulder, and stomps past him.

Kaworu can’t help but watch as the third child angrily plods out of the room, smiling fondly. Ah, Asuka never changes, does she? His eyes lower towards another figure still left in the classroom, quietly packing away her things. On the subject of things that never change...

“Ayanami-san, are you going to visit Shinji-kun as well?” 

She pauses, fingers halfway into her bag.

“I hadn’t meant to kick you out, earlier.” He says, smile still in place. 

Rei stares up at him silently. 

Much like Asuka, she isn’t entirely sure what to make of the mysterious newcomer. “It’s alright, Nagisa-san. You seemed very eager to meet him.” She’d gone to Shinji’s hospital room earlier, only to find Asuka already there, grumbling outside of the door with a put upon expression. It turns out someone was already in there with Shinji.

On his part, Nagisa gives nothing away. His smile is as impenetrable as always. “Yes, I really was, wasn’t I? I can’t help it, though. It feels like I’ve been waiting such a long time.”

He tends to speak like this often, Rei notices. He’s a truly impossible person to figure out. 

“I see,” Rei replies. “Would you like to take my class notes?” 

“I probably should,” he agrees, looking amused. “I don’t think Shinji-kun will appreciate mine very much.”

He always speaks so intimately of him, Rei thinks, noticing the use of Ikari-kun’s first name. Just how does Nagisa feel about Ikari-kun? 

//

There’s a hand on his forehead. The touch is light and reassuring; comforting.

“You’re always having nightmares,” a voice above him. 

When Shinji opens his eyes, he sees the expression in Nagisa’s is pained. 

“Were you scared, being swallowed by an angel like that?”

Shinji closes his eyes, a deep breath filling his lungs with cold oxygen. When he closes his eyes like that, he almost feels like he’s drowning in the darkness again. But Nagisa’s hand is still atop him, fingertips wandering towards his hair. His presence is oddly grounding, even when Shinji feels so adrift. 

“Yeah.” He answers thickly, opening his eyes. 

The silver-haired boy wears a mournful smile. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Shinji shakes his head, tired. “It’s hardly your fault.” He points out. 

In the dim haze light of twilight, Nagisa’s eyes are oddly luminous. He stares down at Shinji in a contemplative manner. The sun's burning glaze turns his eyes into an inhuman fire. For a long moment, Shinji thinks he’s said something wrong. It’s hard to think under such an overwhelming gaze. 

“I have the notes from today’s class.” He says, after a long moment. 

The spell seems to break, and Shinji manages to tear his eyes away from the other boy’s. A flush rises on his cheeks. Shinji doesn’t get it. Why was he just… staring at Nagisa like that? It was as if he couldn’t look away. 

“Thanks, Nagisa.” Shinji replies, as the boy hands over a stack of papers. 

“Kaworu.”

“Hm?” Shinji is distracted by the notes. 

“Call me Kaworu.”

This brings him up short. His hands still, as his eyes widen. Shinji feels heat rise to his cheeks again. “Um— oh. Call me Shinji, then.”

“Of course, Shinji-kun.” Nagisa— Kaworu— replies, sounding amused. 

Shinji realizes then that Kaworu has  _ always  _ called him by his first name. How could he have forgotten that? Feeling silly, he distracts himself again with the notes. 

“Your handwriting has improved exponentially.” He comments, flustered. 

“They’re not mine.” Kaworu returns. 

Shinji looks up, confused. 

“They’re Ayanami-san’s.”

“That’s nice of her.” Shinji muses, now unsurprised with the concise, neat little letters. 

The exact opposite of the chicken scratch Kaworu had handed him the other day. He supposes the other boy can’t be blamed much for that, though. Much like Asuka, despite his name he had never lived in Japan, so it was no surprise he wouldn’t be used to writing the language. Asuka was from Germany, if Shinji recalls correctly, and she still struggles a lot with most Kanji. He glances at Kaworu. He doesn’t even know where Kaworu comes from, in the same way he doesn’t know much about the other boy at all. That shouldn’t be so strange a thing, seeing as they’ve only known each other for a few days. And yet, Shinji already feels so close to the other boy, it seems so unnerving not to know something like that.

“Where are you from?” He finds himself asking, setting the notes down in his lap.

Kaworu looks deeply surprised with the question. Then he grins widely. “The moon.”

Shinji rolls his eyes. “Be serious.” Kaworu really had such an awful sense of humor. It was like no one had ever told him how to be funny, so he just tried to figure it out himself. 

Kaworu shrugs then. “America.” 

Shinji should have expected as much. Kaworu had already mentioned he was piloting the en route Unit 03, and he knew the latest Eva was being shipped from America. 

“How did you find out you were going to be an Eva pilot?”

Kaworu tilts his head. “You’re asking an awful lot of questions today, Shinji-kun.” He remarks, curious.

Shinji flushes. “S— Sorry. I don’t mean to pry, it’s just— 

“No, no, it’s fine.” Kaworu assures him, with that dazzling smile. 

He has so many smiles, Shinji notices. So many more than anyone else Shinji has ever met, and they all have different meanings. There’s that placid visage of pleasantry that reminds Shinji of adults when they hear something they don’t like but pretend to like it anyway; then there’s the smaller one that comes about whenever Shinji accidentally says something that he thinks might have hit a sore spot. He’s quickly realizing Kaworu’s smiles can be just as much of a wall as Rei’s impassivity or Asuka’s abrasive arrogance. All the same, he can tell this one is genuine. He’s not sure how though— something about the sparkle in his eyes, maybe. 

“I suppose I always knew I would be an Eva pilot, so I can’t really tell you when or how it happened.”

Shinji nods. Like Asuka, then. And Rei. Why was he the odd one out? 

“I wonder if it would have been better, if I had always known.” Shinji muses forlornly, looking down blankly at the scattered papers in his lap. He wonders what it is about Kaworu’s presence that makes him so calm. Calm enough to say the things he never says to anyone. Maybe it’s the reassuring tilt to his lips, or the patient and unassuming manner he has with Shinji, when everyone else is always expecting something from him. 

“That’s a difficult question to answer, Shinji-kun.” Kaworu says. “Is it better to know of a bitter fate beforehand? Or better to live in ignorance of it?”

“Bitter is an interesting way of putting it.”

“How would you describe it, then?”

Shinji gives a half-hearted shrug. “Piloting the Eva is…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I hate it.”

“It gives you pain?”

He nods. “I wish I didn’t have to, but what other option do I have?” More than that, what other  _ purpose  _ would he have? If he wasn’t an Eva pilot, he would never even see a glimpse of his father. 

Kaworu is quiet: patient. Shinji lets out a shaky breath. His hands curl into the worksheets on his lap, crumpling them into unrecognizable black lines of ink beneath his palms. 

“I’m scared— I’m always scared. But I can’t run away. I don’t  _ want  _ to run away either but I also don’t— “ He bites down into his lip, frustrated with himself, with everything. With this stupid world and every stupid person in it. 

A cool touch to his lip startles him out of his thoughts. He gasps. When Kaworu pulls his finger away, there’s a bit of blood on it. He realizes he bit down hard enough to draw blood— and no small amount of it. Flushing, he wipes hastily at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.” Kaworu encourages, gently. 

“I don’t even know how I feel anymore. About anything.” Shinji confesses, sorrowfully. It’s been days now since Leliel, and yet he still feels just as lost as he had when he was trapped in the darkness. 

“How do you feel about me?”

Startled, Shinji’s head snaps up, sapphire blue eyes wide as a flush rises up his neck. “W— What?”

Kaworu is watching him with his usual pleasantly neutral expression, as if he hadn’t said anything amiss. “You said you don’t know how you feel anymore, about everything.” Kaworu repeats, calmly. “Does that include me?”

The tips of his ears go red. “N… No.” He stutters out, finding it difficult to meet those ruby eyes. Instead he makes a poor attempt at smoothing out Rei’s notes. “I mean. I don’t know how I feel about you either, but it’s not like that. I don’t know.”

He shakes his head rapidly. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” He admits, quietly. “If I don’t know someone, we can’t betray each other, you know? If no one is close to me, I can’t get hurt. It’s something I hate about myself, really. I wish I could run away from myself, but it’s just how it is. I can’t change it. But sometimes...” He trails off, swallowing with difficulty. Gathering his courage, he shoulders on; “Sometimes, with you, I think it’s different. I don’t know why, but it is.” 

“That’s a difficult way to live,” Kaworu observes. “But it’s not an illogical one.” 

Shinji frowns slightly. “No one ever tells me that.”

“No one wants to believe it.” He shrugs. “But it’s true. Loving someone hurts. Letting people in hurts. The human existence is full of sorrow and pain. People build walls around themselves to protect themselves.”

“You’re the same, aren’t you?” Shinji notices, quietly. Kaworu blinks at him. “You always have a wall up.”

“Do I?” He asks, and for the life of him Shinji can’t tell if he’s be facetious or not.

“It’s in your smile.” Shinji reveals. “You use it to keep people out, sometimes.”  _ Even here, with me,  _ Shinji thinks but doesn’t say. Even when Kaworu is smiling that genuine, brilliant smile of his— he knows there’s something there still that the other boy keeps hidden. 

“I do. Sometimes, but not always. Defenses are necessary, but to never let anyone in is such a lonely, sorrowful existence. Letting someone in opens your soul up to excruciating pain, but for as much sorrow there is hope, too.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.” Shinji comments, idly. “Love.” 

Kaworu smiles at him again. It looks sad, but genuine. “Yes, I do.” 

//

Shinji is discharged from the hospital, but still feels like he’s in a constant state of limbo. The days in the hospital were marked by a long milky spill of light between intermittent periods of sleep. If he was lucky, Kaworu would be by his side when he opened his eyes. If he wasn’t, it would be nothing but light or darkness. As eager as he was to leave that monotonous place, he feels lost and adrift outside of it. 

The only thing grounding him is Kaworu’s presence. Like true north, he always gravitates towards the other boy. And in his presence, Shinji can feel some small semblance of peace. 

He knows what everyone else thinks. Asuka hasn’t exactly been subtle about it. Class rep Horaki had stuttered when she saw Shinji and Kaworu enter the classroom together on Shinji’s first day back. She’d gone bright red and ran off when Shinji had felt a wave of dizziness and Kaworu had reached out to steady him. Shinji didn’t really get it. Toji and Kensuke weren’t particularly enlightening; Toji had rolled his eyes, and Kensuke had merely scratched his cheek with an uncomfortable laugh when he asked what was going on.

It seems to make a lot of people uncomfortable, how close Kaworu and Shinji have become in the scant few days the new transfer student has been on Japanese soil. Unit-03 isn’t set to arrive for another week, but his results have already been quite promising, apparently. Asuka mentioned offhandedly that Kaworu had replaced him as the number one— she’d said it as if she’d intended to upset him somehow, but Shinji couldn’t help but feel some relief at that. In a lot of ways, Kaworu inspired him. The boy was just so perfect. Shinji would gladly concede this title. He never wanted to be an Eva pilot in the first place, let alone the ‘best’. Kaworu was much more worthy of it than he was.

When Shinji’s eyes slide over towards him, he’s reminded of how lacking he is in comparison.

The other boy looks positively glorious in the setting sun, gold and bronze lighting upon his features with quiet affection, the fire in his eyes so bright it could consume Shinji if he wasn’t careful. A part of him doesn’t  _ want  _ to be careful.

“Are you alright, Shinji-kun?”

Shinji blinks, still somewhat dazzled by the way the light plays against his cheeks, the curve of his brow, the bow of his lips. How can a human look so perfect? “... Huh?”

“Does your head still hurt?” 

The dark-haired boy shakes his head. “Oh. No. I’m fine.” He’s been saying that a lot these days— to Kaworu, in particular. Kaworu always seems to be asking after his health. 

On that note, he’s the  _ only  _ one who  _ ever  _ asks after Shinji, in any capacity. It makes him both infinitely grateful and yet terrified. He could get used to this, so easily. It’s silly, though. He doesn’t want to burden the other boy with all his problems. If he lets down his own walls, even a little bit, then Kaworu will see what a pathetic and ruined human being he is, and will never want to be with him again. 

Kaworu merely observes him with those incandescent eyes. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, as he always does. This time though, he adds; “But— I want to know, if you’ll let me.”

Shinji bites his lip, looking away. 

He doesn’t understand Kaworu at all.  _ No one  _ cares about Shinji, can’t he see that? He has no reason to be alive; no one would care if he died, except of course for the general disgruntlement over having to find a replacement for him. His own father probably wouldn’t even so much as blink at the news. His own father can barely even be bothered to acknowledge him, let alone ask after his health, or maybe even just tell him thanks for risking his life getting in a giant armored creature to fight off even scarier giant armored creatures. Misato tries, but at the end of the day Shinji knows she’s just using him too, even if she does feel bad about it sometimes. He supposes he’s gotten closer to Rei and Asuka somewhat, but even then his relationships with them are fairly volatile, changing from good terms to awful terms to abysmal terms like a swinging pendulum.

Kaworu is the only constant in his life. He never treats Shinji any differently, no matter if Shinji is in the midst of a panic attack in his hospital bed or moody and sullen and avoiding everyone at school. He is always, unfailingly, kind and patient with Shinji, even though Shinji has no idea what he’s done to deserve such consideration. Kaworu looks at him sometimes, with something endless in his eyes, as if Shinji is singularly the most important thing in the whole universe— and he doesn’t know how to handle it. 

“I don’t really want to go back home.” Shinji blurts out, eventually. 

Misato was ready to kill him with the leftover ninety-nine N2 bombs, and Asuka and Rei were going to back up the plan. He knows that it’s just business. He knows it was nothing personal, they just needed to recover the Eva at all costs, with or without him alive inside it; they needed to kill the angel; they needed to do what they had to, to save mankind. He gets it, he does. And yet, it still hurts to think they would have killed him if Unit-01 hadn’t gone berserk again. To all of them, his life is disposable in the face of their goal.

He wonders if Kaworu would be the same.

He can’t bring himself to ask.

“Let’s go somewhere else, then.” 

A warm hand fits into his. Shinji is so surprised he stops walking and stares down at it. Long, pale fingers are laced with his own. The palm against his own is pleasantly warm. When Shinji’s gaze trails up to Kaworu’s, the other boy merely smiles at him, squeezing his hand. 

Shinji’s breath feels caught fast in his chest. “Okay.” 

//

He’s never been to the lake in the GeoFront. The water is surprisingly mild, and the filtering sunlight keeps him from getting too cold. Kaworu is a silent but comfortable presence by his side, hand still held in his. Shinji wonders what’s going on in the other boy’s head, as they stare out into the rippling lake. He wonders what’s going on in  _ his own  _ head. He doesn’t know anymore. 

It’s okay though, with Kaworu here by his side. 

//

“Do you want to swim?”

Shinji pauses. “I don’t know how.” He admits. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side.” 

His lips thin as he stares out into the lake. It looks calm, but its depths are impenetrable. “What about our clothes?”

“We can leave them there.” Kaworu points to a large, flat rock on the lakeside. 

Shinji still hesitates, ears turning red. “Err…”

“Is that not alright?” Kaworu tilts his head. He’s smiling slightly, and he thinks there’s something playful— and a bit challenging— to the boy’s eyes. “We’re both boys, aren’t we?”

_ For some reason, that’s not really reassuring right now.  _ Shinji thinks, but goes along with the idea anyway. He very intentionally keeps his gaze focused on the lake’s horizon, and jumps immediately into the water once his own clothes are off. He wades as far as he dares, the languid water lapping at his chest. It’s a bit colder, standing in the lake like this. There’s splashing from behind him, but he can’t bring himself to turn around. He feels like his face is on fire as he listens to the sounds of water against Kaworu’s body. It’s a little too easy to imagine the sight; pale skin glistening with sparkling drops of water, like little crystals dotting the planes of his arms, his neck, the lines of his hips drawing down to— 

Shinji splashes water on his face. 

“See? It’s not too bad, is it?” Kaworu asks from behind him, sounding enthusiastic. 

“This isn’t exactly swimming.” Shinji replies, blithely. 

Kaworu makes a thoughtful noise. “I guess that’s true.” 

He moves further into the lake. Shinji watches with trepidation, hesitant to follow as he watches the water rise to the other boy’s shoulders. Then, all of a sudden, he disappears, dropping into the dark depths. 

“Kaworu— !” He calls with alarm. He waits for a moment, expecting the other boy’s sheen of silver hair to burst from the surface. It doesn’t. 

Seconds pass. How long can a human hold their breath? Shinji thinks of the cold darkness he felt when he had been trapped inside Unit 01, counting down the minutes as he slowly ran out of oxygen. It seemed all at once both excruciatingly endless and yet painfully short. 

Without another thought he dives in after the other boy, even as the rocks beneath him give way to nothing but water. He can’t see in the dark, and the water suddenly feels as cold as ice. He reaches blindly, hoping to grab hold onto something warm and familiar, but finds nothing. When he tries to return back to the shallow waters, he can’t figure out which way he came from. Then the panic sets in. 

Before he can really work himself up into hysterics, an arm hauls him up out of the depths. He breaks the surface with a startled gasp, blinking the slightly salty water out of his eyes to find the dome of the GeoFront above him, filtered light seeping through. He hears Kaworu laughing.

“That wasn’t funny, Kaworu!” He glares at the other boy. 

“It wasn’t?” He looks genuinely curious.

Shinji sputters. “No! Of course not! What if something had really happened to you?” He can’t believe Kaworu’s terrible sense of humor, sometimes. 

“You’re the one who can’t swim,” Kaworu points out. Then he grins. “But you’re swimming now, aren’t you?”

Shinji realizes then that they’re still not standing on solid ground. He clings a little harder onto Kaworu. “O— Only because you’re keeping us afloat!”

“Not really— you’re doing a pretty good job yourself.” Kaworu returns, smiling at him. 

He looks mesmerizing in the soft film of twilight, hair wet and glistening against his iridescent skin. Shinji is suddenly extremely conscious of all the places they’re touching, and how close their bodies are. He wants to retreat, but is apprehensive at the idea of letting go.

In the end, he doesn’t let go. Actually, he leans closer, resting his head on Kaworu’s shoulder. 

Shinji closes his eyes. “Can we stay out here a little longer?”

“We can stay as long as you like.” Kaworu replies, softly. 

//

It’s dark by the time they get out. So dark it’s difficult to see much of anything, let alone the figure getting dressed beside him. This is for the best, because Shinji feels as if his face is on fire. He can’t tell how Kaworu feels, but he doubts the other boy is as affected as he is. He didn’t seem to mind at all as they had floated together in the lake, Shinji clinging onto him, their skin touching beneath the water. 

By some unspoken agreement, they go to Kaworu’s room. Kaworu slips his hand back into Shinji’s on the way back and Shinji doesn’t protest. 

For someone who traveled all the way from America for an indefinite amount of time, he didn’t bring very much with him. Or anything, really. He has even less than Rei does. Nothing but the standard issue NERV furniture and sets of nondescript clothing most likely provided by the organization as well. Shinji changes into one of the sets for bed, and Kaworu does the same. There’s only one bed, and oddly enough, Shinji doesn’t immediately protest the thought of sharing it. He never likes people close to him, like this. He doesn’t understand why Kaworu is so different. 

Kaworu collapses onto the bed next to him. It doesn’t seem strange at all, to share intimate space with him like this. They’re breathing the same air, so close he can feel the heat of the other boy like a tangible weight.  _ He’s perfect,  _ Shinji thinks, for what seems like the millionth time that day. Even here beneath the wan and wintry yellowed lights of NERV’s personnel quarters, he looks surreal and beatific. 

Shinji pulls his gaze away from where he’s been tracing the dips and shadows of Kaworu’s arm beneath the covers, looking up to realize Kaworu is watching him just as studiously. 

It’s awkward, and he feels a little like he wants to run away, but at the same time it’s not so uncomfortable it stirs him into action. He doesn’t know how long he holds Kaworu’s gaze, but eventually the other boy smiles at him, and closes his eyes. 

//

Kaworu watches the boy next to him, sleeping soundly; unsuspecting prey in the jaws of a predator. Shinji looks so young and innocent in his sleep, the melancholic expression he wears in his waking hours eased away with the brief reprieve of unconsciousness. For now, at least. The boy has been having nightmares more often than not. 

He reaches out to brush his fingers through the boy’s dark hair. Shinji makes an unintelligible noise in his sleep, and curls closer towards Kaworu, the closest source of warmth in the frigid depths of NERV HQ. He seems to sleep easier with Kaworu beside him, but is that because of Kaworu in particular, or is it just Shinji’s desperate need for a scrap of affection, no matter whom it comes from?

He doesn’t know, but pulls the boy closer nonetheless. Asleep, Shinji doesn’t protest at all, fitting easily beneath his chin. He wonders if the boy would even protest had he been awake. He’s oddly receptive to Kaworu’s touch; again, is it merely because he is so starved for attention of any kind? Is he truly so lonely that he would reach out for a kind touch from anyone, even a monster? 

It’s novel to hold him in his arms, like this. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this close to Shinji, before. 

He has many distorted memories of the boy— too many for Shinji to be anything but a central figure in all of his visions of his life. The two of them, standing in the lake-filled crater left behind by Unit 00’s destruction, the water dyed emerald in the sunset. Shinji looks so beautiful, when he tells Kaworu how he feels about him. But Kaworu cannot accept, and he pushes the boy away, knowing it will only hurt him if they get any closer. Shinji, face flushed with steam from the bath as Kaworu holds his hand, and asks him if he plays an instrument. The two of them in a sterile courtyard, fingers dancing across keys in a piano duet. Shinji’s cry of anguish when he realizes Kaworu has betrayed him; when he realizes Kaworu is the enemy.

_ What is the definition of insanity again? Doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting a different result?  _ If so, Kaworu had gone insane a long, long time ago.

He knows how this story ends, and yet he can’t stop himself from repeating it anyway. 

This time though, he refuses to waste the precious little time they have together. He doesn’t have long before he won’t be able to control himself any longer, until the pull of Adam becomes too much for him to resist. He wants to spend all of it with Shinji, in any capacity he can.

_ Insanity.  _ He thinks again, as he buries his nose into the boy’s hair. It smells faintly of wind and salty water. 

//

II.

Shinji hasn’t returned to the apartment.

Misato sighs heavily, dropping into one of the chairs in the unlit kitchen. She opens up another can of Yebisu with a quick  _ pop!  _ PenPen squawks at her feet. She doesn’t bother to turn on the light. She doesn’t know where Asuka is, either.

_ Some guardian I am.  _ She thinks, morbidly. 

It’s not as if she doesn’t know where they both are, though. Asuka is at her friend's house— their class representative, Horaki Hikari. Nice enough. Bit plain. But nothing to be concerned over. If anything, Asuka could use more friends to ground her. As for Shinji, though…

At the thought of the Fourth Child, Misato scowls. 

She doesn’t trust him, that child. His timing is too coincidental to be anything but odd. She has Hyuga looking into the boy’s history, but it might take time before Makoto can scrounge anything up while evading the watchful eye of NERV’s firewalls. But there’s something strange to that boy, and she doesn’t like how Shinji has so easily fallen into his spell. Unit 03 is set to arrive on Japanese soil in a few days, and they’ll see just what kind of pilot he is then. Still; why did America decide to send Unit 03 now, after the mysterious disappearance of both their base and Unit 04? There was something fishy to all of this. 

Misato has half a mind to call Shinji back, but thinks better of it after a moment. Shinji won’t appreciate her nagging him like this, and it’s not as if he’s doing anything wrong. She doesn’t care whenever Asuka disappears off to a friend’s house, so she can’t exactly single Shinji out for it. Even though spending  _ this  _ amount of time away is certainly something to be concerned about.

_ He hasn’t even been back once.  _ She notes, with disbelief. What is he wearing? Is he eating properly? 

Is it even really her place to care? 

  
  


//

“You don’t like suffering do you, Shinji-kun?” Kaji-san asks, as he waters the parched earth.

Shinji stares down into the patterns of dirt. He pokes a watermelon. “Does anyone?” 

“Ah, that’s true.” Kaji-san agrees. Cicadas cry in the distance. The watermelons look almost orange in the light of sunset. “Well, have you found anything you enjoy?”

Shinji doesn’t reply, but his answer comes unbidden in the privacy of his mind anyway. 

_ Kaworu. I enjoy being with Kaworu.  _

He stays silent. 

Kaji-san takes his silence as dissent. “Well, that’s alright. But knowledge of suffering makes you all the more capable of kindness to others.” 

His phone rings in his pocket. “Hello?” He pauses, then turns to Shinji. “It’s Katsuragi. They’re ready to start the synch tests.”

//

“Interesting,” Ritsuko remarks, leaning over her computer. “Shinji-kun’s levels aren’t as low as I had expected them to be.”

Misato blinks. “You expected them to be low? Why?”

“Well, after his incident, it would be reasonable, no?” Ritsuko replies idly, her fingers tapping against the keys. “It must have been a traumatic event, and high synch tests rely deeply on mental stability.”

Misato purses her lips. “But they’re not lower.”

“No.” The blonde doctor makes an interested noise. “Actually, he’s just as good as he was prior to Leliel. Perhaps a bit better.”

The dark-haired Major looks away, crossing her arms. Behind the long panes of reinforced glass, the plugs are suspended in a large, concrete room. From this angle, she can see the catwalk where the pilots walk to access them, and further still, the halls beyond it, leading to the locker room. The Fourth Child is a barely discernible figure, watching from behind his own view of glass. As he currently has no Evangelion to pilot, he has no need for a synch test. And yet he’s here anyway. 

Misato narrows her eyes. 

//

Unit 03 arrives far too soon.

Shinji sighs, and snuggles in closer to Kaworu’s warmth. He’s going to miss this, even though he knows it’s not for very long. But he’s gotten far too used to it; waking up with the warmth of another person by his side is no small thing. Having someone to share all those small, insignificant moments is no small thing. The walk back and forth from school; the stolen minutes between synch tests and homework; the quiet moments before bed, or just before dawn. He hadn’t realized how alone he was until he wasn’t alone anymore.

He’ll be lonely again, without it.

“It’s not for very long, Shinji-kun.” Kaworu points out, amused and privately thrilled by Shinji’s exceptional clinginess. 

The dark-haired boy doesn’t reply, pouting as he is into Kaworu’s stomach. 

Kaworu laughs. “Shinji-kun…”

“I know.” Shinji replies, miserably, as he turns his head into Kaworu’s hip. The silver-haired boy stands at the foot of the bed, Shinji sitting atop it with his face buried into Kaworu’s shirt. The other boy’s hands rise up to run through his hair. Shinji could fall asleep again like this, breathing in the soft scent of Kaworu. “But still. I don’t want you to leave. What if something happens to you?”

“What would happen to me?” Kaworu can’t help but be tickled by the assumption. Shinji has no idea how outlandish that sentiment is. Kaworu is the  _ last  _ person on this earth that needs protecting. “It’ll be fine, Shinji-kun. It’s just a few tests.”

“Then why are they performing it all the way at another base? Why not here?” Shinji challenges, surprisingly spot on.

Kaworu blinks, debating how to answer that. 

“Kensuke told me about Unit 04.” Shinji confesses, causing Kaworu to stiffen beneath him. He closes his eyes, and raises his hands to wrap them around Kaworu’s waist, as if he expects the other boy to attempt to run away. “Was it really scary for you? Is that why you didn’t tell me about it?”

Not even remotely, no. But it’s as good an excuse as any. “Yes, I suppose. I haven’t really wanted to talk about it. I’ve spent most of my life there, you see. I was… close to the people who worked at that base. To have them all disappear in a matter of moments like that…”

_ Lies, lies, lies.  _

How many more lies will he tell this boy? This boy, whom he would move heaven and earth for? But Shinji’s happiness is all that matters to him, and Shinji will not be happy to know the truth.

The truth that it wasn’t an accident, at all. That it was sabotage; an attempt to buy more time. He knows it won’t do much, but removing Unit 04’s S2 engine in such a manner will slow down SEELE for just a little while longer. They’ll only have the backup data in Germany now to base their S2 engine models after, and it will be some time before they can act on their findings. It’s nothing but stealing minutes in the grand scheme of things, but he’ll do anything for just a few more minutes with Shinji, even throwing an entire NERV base into the abyss of a Dirac Sea. 

It’s no different than inserting himself into the base in the first place. The SEELE monoliths had been disconcerted with his decision, but at this stage they were apprehensive to deny him. They want him as their pawn; they want him to think that they’re on his side, so they let him go to America without fanfare. According to the Dead Sea Scrolls he was always meant to be one of the  _ Children;  _ being the Fourth Child as opposed to the Fifth was still within the parameters of their prophecy. 

And if he is the Fourth Child instead of the Fifth, then he will have so much more time with Shinji. Weeks, as opposed to mere days. It’s a small glimpse of tantalizing paradise that he couldn’t give up, no matter how many must fall for it to come to fruition. 

_ Including you, Bardiel.  _

Kaworu runs a hand through Shinji’s hair. He’ll do anything to keep this small chance of happiness. 

//

_ It’s either me or her,  _ Kaworu thinks, as he refuses to fight off Bardiel and allows his brother to bend Unit 03 to its will. 

Asuka goes flying immediately, unable to stand a chance against the infected Eva. She at least, doesn’t even bother with the pretense of hesitating at the idea of killing him. He appreciates that about her, really. One day soon, he might need her to actually do it. He would prefer it to be Shinji, when the day inevitably comes. But he’s not sure he could do that to the other boy. It’s what he would want, and he’d like to be able to choose his own death. But it would destroy Shinji, and the thought of leaving him like that is even enough to sour the thought of the freedom of death. The thought of leaving Shinji,  _ at all,  _ is enough for him to wish that he could just have…

Ayanami in Unit 00 is next. She is more patient; hesitating where Asuka did not. The lumbering bulk of the infected Unit 03 staggers past her hiding spot, giving ample time to shoot at its unprotected back. But she does not take the shot. She knows who is in Unit 03, and despite the two of them barely speaking more than a handful of times, it’s obvious she’s aware of Shinji’s feelings for him. And her feelings for Shinji are what stops her now. She knows his death will hurt the other boy, and she wants to spare him that pain. That’s nice of her. 

He wishes he could save her somehow, but like Asuka, even she is expendable at the end of the day. To stop Bardiel now would be to give up his identity as the final angel, and after that it would all be over. All the same, he cannot imagine how Shinji will feel if something happens to her. How Shinji will feel, knowing Kaworu allowed her to  _ die. _

_ (Incapacitate her.)  _ He says. 

In response, Unit 03 convulses in on itself in confusion.

Asuka was lucky enough to eject when she did, otherwise she would have been dead. Shinji would have been deeply upset, but not in the way he would if it is Rei who dies. Cognizant of this fact, he takes this gamble. NERV already knows Unit 03 is infected by an Angel; more than likely they will not be able to tell by which one _ ,  _ or rather, by how many. 

Bardiel is confused. 

As a species they do not communicate with each other, not as humans do. It is not in their nature; they have no need to form social bonds, to band together, to create civilizations to give strength to their weaknesses. Angels have no weaknesses, they are physical perfection— immortal, radiant giants. But they are all, at some level, capable of communication. 

_ (Don’t kill her.)  _ He says again, and then Unit 03 leaps.

It lands atop Unit 00. Infected sludge drips down onto the Eva; Unit 00’s back is entirely unprotected, vulnerable entry plug and all, but the infection misses all of that and lands on its arm instead. 

As predicted, NERV HQ explodes the infected appendage. Unit 00 is incapacitated, the threat is nullified, and Bardiel has no need to stay any longer. He would feel sorry for her, but between a wound or death, he thinks she got the better end of the bargain. 

It’s not until he finally comes face to face to Unit 01 that his calm, impenetrable mask breaks. Unit 01 shouldn’t be here. 

_ Shinji.  _ His thoughts come to a halt. Why is Shinji here?

His tests should have been too low for piloting. After his psychological trauma, they should have dropped exponentially. So much so that he would not have even been able to move Unit 01. It’s a marked memory of the many futures he’s never lived through yet; Leliel splinters Shinji’s defenses. The first crack in the walls around his heart that only further deteriorate as Asuka and Rei and Misato all fall into their own downward spirals. 

He shouldn’t be here. But what had changed?

It strikes him like a bolt of lightning. He can’t help but laugh. It’s either that or cry. The sound is bitter and hollow in the infected chamber of Unit 03’s entry plug. 

This is as fitting a way to die as any, he supposes. 

And whether it was here or in the bowels of Terminal Dogma, he’d have met this fate at Shinji’s hand one way or another. 

_ “Kaworu, can you hear me?”  _

Shinji’s voice cracks. He wonders if he’s merely imagining this, or if Unit 03’s local communication systems are still active despite the infection. 

_ “Please, Kaworu. I— I’m so sorry. I can’t do this… I can’t…” _

Kaworu closes his eyes. 

This is all his fault. It was his own selfish desires that have led him to this point. He wanted to meet Shinji so badly— couldn’t wait any longer than he had to— that he took his first opportunity to find his way to the boy. In the process, he ended up upturning certain events and dooming himself to the same bitter end he always faces. Shinji was supposed to be too traumatized to pilot his Eva right now, but he’s not, because he’s had Kaworu by his side. Kaworu, who has been healing his loneliness and his sorrows and his anxiety with one small laugh at a time. Kaworu, who is always coming up with inventive ways to get Shinji to smile. 

Kaworu, who has doomed Shinji to kill his best friend. 

Perhaps it’s better this way, he thinks. At least this way Shinji will never know the truth about him. Or at least, he won’t know until long after Kaworu is dead. 

Shinji sobs through the speakers.  _ “Kaworu, please. Please don’t be... “  _ His breath hitches.  _ “I can’t live without you! Do you hear me? I can’t do this! Don’t make me do this!” _

Kaworu’s eyes snap open. 

What is he doing, giving up like this? He’s come so far for this; he’s done all this for Shinji, and now he’s going to just give up on him? 

He grits his teeth. 

He had intended to have NERV use their weapons against Unit 03, and unbeknownst to them Kaworu would turn on his brother and negate Bardiel’s AT Field, allowing the weapons to actually do damage to the Eva. In the ensuing chaos, Kaworu would eject. It was supposed to be a relatively simple event, a mere few days of his time. Then he’d be back to spending his days with Shinji curled up underneath the covers of his bed or reading by the lakeside. Instead, NERV didn’t even bother with attempting to use weapons, and had jumped right for the Evas instead. Kaworu should have expected as much, really. He always knew NERV found their pilots to be expendable enough. Why bother to mitigate risk to their safety by trying other alternatives first, before putting the lives of children on the line?

Well, at any rate, the blame for this rests solely on Kaworu, and it’s up to him to fix it. 

NERV will be suspicious, but SEELE will back him up. In the end, no matter what Commander Ikari thinks of him, SEELE will tie his hands on the matter. 

Kaworu thinks he should feel sorry for his brother, but in the end, it’s an easy choice to make.

His own AT Field comes to life. Unit 03 stops mid-step, and crashes to the ground, convulsing in on itself. 

Shinji watches the proceedings with horror. 

All of a sudden, the terrifying bulk of the infected Eva unit collapsed to the ground at his feet. Shinji took a step back, horrified. Kaworu was still in there! And Unit 03… well, he wasn’t entirely sure what it was doing. It seemed to be having a war with itself, crashing its head against the ground, its arms twisting around it. Corrosive sludge oozed out of its armor platings, sizzling onto the pavement around it. The sad whinging noises it made were disturbing, as were the loud, sickening strikes of bone hitting the concrete as it continued to bash its head into the ground. 

“K— Kaworu?” He whispers, watching with wide, grave eyes. 

It stretches upwards then, as if pulled by an invisible force. Back taut, it makes another screeching noise before falling over onto its back. Shinji is near paralyzed in terror, but something catches his eye and drives him into movement. 

It’s Unit-03’s core, laid vulnerable with the Eva on its back like this. It’s arms are clutching at its head as it writhes on the ground, and Shinji realizes this is his only moment to strike. He has no idea what it will do to Kaworu— how painful it will feel, if the boy is even still conscious, or if he’s even still… Shinji cuts himself off, unable to bear the thought. But better this than the dummy plug. He's muted his father and NERV HQ, but he knows it's just a matter of moments before they override him and use the dummy plug instead. And there's no telling what will happen then. Better to do it now and have some control over the situation than give it up to his father.

He takes out his progressive knife, and dives in for the kill.

The armor around it’s core comes splintering apart, and the knife hits home in a spray of LCL. Unit 03 gives another wrenching roar, bucking beneath him, but makes no move to fight him off. Knife buried deep in the other Eva, Shinji watches with heaving breaths as it stills beneath him. He waits for what seems like eternity before deeming it dead, and then he’s tearing for the entry plug, stuck fast with the corrosive substance. 

“Kaworu!!”

//

“I’m so sorry to worry you.” He says, mournfully. 

Shinji looks at him with tears in his eyes. It makes Kaworu’s heart hurt. He can hardly stand the sight of it. Even Shinji driving a knife into Unit 03’s core with Kaworu connected to it couldn’t hold a candle to this kind of pain. It transcends any kind of physical injury— it’s a whole new class of agony, all to its own.

_ So this is what it means to be human.  _ He thinks, wryly.

This is what it means to love.

“Worry me?” Shinji repeats, rubbing his eyes furiously. “That’s… how can you even…No. It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize.”

It is his fault, in more ways than Shinji will ever know. 

The monitor by his side beats its steady, rhythmic song. His heartbeat is strong. He’s perfectly fine, in all honesty. But it’s better to feign some kind of mental injury, if only for appearances sake. He doubts it will fool the people who matter, but it’ll buy him time, at least. That’s all he ever seems to be doing these days. Living for borrowed time. 

He reaches a hand out to brush against Shinji’s cheek. “How can I not apologize, when I know I’m the cause of your tears?”

Shinji shakes his head furiously. “It’s not you. It’s— “

He falls silent, gaze lowering to the crisp, pale white of Kaworu’s hospital sheets. It’s an alarming juxtaposition of their first meeting, Shinji knows. Kaworu sitting vigil by his bedside, as Shinji recovers from terrors that leave no mark on his body, but bear their horrible scars on his soul. He can’t imagine what when on in there, with Kaworu trapped inside an Angel. He only hopes he can be the sort of healing balm to Kaworu as Kaworu was to him. He has no delusions of himself though; he’s nothing like Kaworu. Nowhere near as good as Kaworu. He’s no good at caring for others, helping others, being there for others. He tries though, for Kaworu’s sake. But he knows he’s no good for it. Shinji is nothing but broken, tossed parts. An asset for his father to call on when needed, and shoved away once its usefulness has expired. 

“My father was about to use the dummy plug system,” Shinji confesses, voice quiet but heavy with anger. “He was going to destroy Unit 03, even with you inside.” 

Kaworu blinks. “Ah.”

He hadn’t known that. He’d lost consciousness after Shinji had struck Unit 03’s core. It was just as well; at least he didn’t have to pretend to be injured when they fished him out of the plug. 

“I may have…” Shinji’s hands curl into the sheets as he bites into his lip. “I was so furious. I thought you were dead. I thought I had… I thought I had killed you anyway. Instead of the dummy plug, it was me.”

“It sounds like you actually ended up saving me,” Kaworu points out, gently. 

Shinji shakes his head. “No. Not at all. I had no idea if I would be killing you or not, doing what I did. And I— I did it anyway. And why? Because I knew my father wanted me to do it.” He laughs bitterly, tears gathering in his eyes. “I hate myself. How could I do that? For acknowledgment for a man who’s not even worth it. You’re worth so much more than him. You mean everything to me and I still— 

He breaks off in a sob. “Shinji!” Kaworu cries in alarm, leaning over to gather the boy in his arms. 

The boy chokes into his hospital gown, burying his face in Kaworu’s shoulder. “Shinji…”

“I lost it.” He admits into Kaworu’s neck, voice uneven. “I threatened to blow up HQ with him and everyone else in it; I said I’d use the Eva to destroy him. He… didn’t take too well to that, obviously. But I don’t even care anymore. I don’t care about him anymore. I’m not going to pilot the Eva anymore.” 

Shinji falls silent, hiccuping quietly. Kaworu rubs his back, pulling him close, until Shinji crawls into the bed with him. He scoots over to give the other boy room, lying back so they’re lying together in each other’s arms. It makes everything worth it, moments like this. Kaworu wishes he could make them last forever. 

“It’s alright, Shinji.” Kaworu murmurs, soothingly. “If you don’t want to pilot it anymore, that’s alright.”

“It’s selfish.” Shinji counters, sounding defeated.

“So? If it gives you pain like this, I don’t want you to pilot it. I don’t want to see you suffer anymore, Shinji.” He pauses, before ducking in close. “I love you, Shinji. All I want is your happiness.”

Shinji goes still in his arms. Even his breathing has stopped. It goes on for so long Kaworu is worried he may pass out. 

Then he takes a long, shaky breath. He pulls away from his hiding spot in Kaworu’s chest, blinking his bright blue eyes at him. His cheeks are red, and not just from crying. “Y— You…” He manages to get out, mouth opening and closing without words coming out. Finally he swallows, and tries again. “You… love me?” He repeats, breathlessly. 

“I love you, Shinji.” He says again, simply. 

He’s not entirely sure what reaction he expects— or hopes for— from Shinji, but then he decides it doesn’t even matter. Shinji reacts to these words differently in many of the futures he’s seen; there are some where Kaworu doesn’t even tell him at all. But it’s always true, and it seems silly not to say it aloud. 

Shinji is still staring at him dumbly. 

“I feel like I was born to meet you,” Kaworu continues, smiling softly. “You’re everything to me, Shinji. I want to give you nothing but happiness.”

“You…” Shinji trails off. 

His eyes are glittering dangerously. It’s the only warning Kaworu gets before he bursts into tears again. It’s even worse than before, this time. He’s all but dry heaving against Kaworu, and Kaworu worries he might hyperventilate at this point. 

Horrified, Kaworu tilts the boy’s chin up. “Shinji? What’s wrong?”

Shinji hiccups loudly. “W— Wrong?” He shakes his head vehemently, and even though he’s crying profusely, he’s also smiling. It’s terribly confusing. Don’t humans cry when they are upset, or in pain, and smile when they are pleased? If so, what does it mean if he’s doing both? 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Shinji denis, with a watery smile. “I love you too, Kaworu.”

And then he kisses him.

//

Kaworu could never have imagined this kind of happiness in any of his wildest dreams. Suddenly, everything precious and amazing about the Lillin makes stunning and absolute sense. Their superiority becomes crystal clear. Angels will never understand this sort of incredible, incandescent  _ emotion.  _ They are capable of the basics, but it is no better than the Lillin-type animals that inhabit this planet. They will never experience this— this, this  _ joy  _ that can only be experienced by individual existence. 

SEELE, NERV, Ikari Gendo— they’re all fools, to voluntarily think to give this up. An endless existence of  _ nothing _ , in comparison to this?

Yes, it is fleeting. Yes, in the end he knows there will be nothing but pain. But it’s all worth it, for this brief, momentary brightness. Like the quick passing of spring, Shinji’s every smile, laugh, touch— they are as striking and ephemeral as flowers in the wind, and they are worth more than all of eternity. 

He had never expected this. 

His greatest wish was Shinji’s happiness. He would do anything to ensure it, even if it was only for the short time they had together. He had never given it any more thought than that. He loved Shinji, but it was an unconditional, endless love. He didn’t expect anything in return from the other boy. 

His friendship had been wonderful. But his love was… indescribable. 

“What are you thinking of?” Shinji rolls over, smile playing against his lips. 

His own father wants him tried for war crimes, but you wouldn’t be able to tell it from the positively radiant expression of happiness on the boy’s face. 

Shinji doesn’t want to pilot Unit 01 anymore, and Kaworu has every intention of making that happen for him. Commander Ikari is livid, but there is nothing to be done about it. SEELE has merely offered up Kaworu as an easy and convenient alternative; Kaworu is already a pilot, he is already there, he is already trained, and he has recently lost his own Eva. To them, Shinji refusing to pilot is negligible. It means nothing to their plans. To Commander Ikari, however, it is everything. Whatever the shadowy leader of NERV is after— which Kaworu has never lived long enough to figure out— is clearly contingent upon Shinji piloting Unit 01. 

For his part, it’s very obvious Shinji doesn’t even think about it at all. 

The only thing that matters in his life is Kaworu. 

“I’m thinking about how much I love to do this with you.” Kaworu replies, easily. 

Shinji blinks at him, frowning in confusion. “...Do what?” 

They’re not exactly doing much. Kaworu is lying on his back in the bed, Shinji curled up against him. He has one earbud, and Shinji has the other. The SDAT is paused on Track 26. It’s not a school day, and Kaworu is done with his synch tests, so they’ve spent most of the hours whittled away in bed, enjoying each other’s company… sometimes with more than just words. 

Shinji is lying in a boneless bliss that can only come after hours of kissing. He suddenly understands why Kaji-san is always sleeping around with the NERV personnel, much to Misato’s chagrin. If this is what it’s like, he can see why someone would want to do it all the time. 

“Just laying here, like this.” Kaworu says, beautiful ruby eyes slipping shut. Shinji feels like he could stare at the other boy for hours, and never get enough. 

He smiles into Kaworu’s chest. “Yeah. Me too.” 

//

The loud groan of Tokyo-3 rising for the night; city lights flickering on beneath the moon; distant sounds of cars; the low murmur of foot traffic. Two boys, huddled against the wall on a sidestreet a slight distance away from all the noise. Shinji’s school bag drops to the ground. He should pick it up, because he can’t imagine an alleyway like this to be particularly sanitary, but he’s not exactly in a state of mind to do so. His hands are in Kaworu’s hair, and Kaworu is making a spectacular mark on his neck, just below his ear. Everyone will see it tomorrow; Shinji finds he’s excited for it. He likes knowing a reminder of Kaworu’s mouth will still be on him come tomorrow. 

He bucks against the taller boy, feeling the now familiar rise of heat in his stomach. He always lets it warm him as he pleasures himself with slow kisses and wandering hands, but never lets it get any farther. Tonight though, he wants to chase that heat and find what lies on the other side. 

“Your place?” He says when they break apart. He doesn’t even know if he’s welcomed at Misato’s anymore. 

Kaworu pants heavily against his ear. Then he pulls away to stare into Shinji’s eyes. His own are large and luminous, swallowing Shinji whole. “How about a hotel?”

Shinji was already slightly flushed, but now he’s sure he’s bright red from his neck to the tips of his ears. He ducks his head and hides his embarrassment in Kaworu’s shoulder. He knows what Kaworu means; he knows what people do at ‘hotels’ like the ones he’s referring to. The Love Hotels. The place people go for a night of passion— people like them, probably, who have no desire to go home. The thought of getting to spend the whole night with Kaworu in a place like that— just the two of them, no NERV personnel just a few doors down, in a place where no one knows them— sends a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah,” he agrees, thickly. 

It’s not terrible and it’s not nice, but it’s the closest one to them so it’s good enough. 

Shinji hardly remembers checking in, flighty with a nervous, restless energy. He’s not really sure what he’s nervous about. He  _ wants  _ to do this with Kaworu. But, well, he’s never done  _ it  _ before either, and it’s normal to be nervous over new things, right? 

Shinji squeezes the hand in his, as Kaworu opens the door to their room. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of, because it’s Kaworu who’s here with him. The thought is more than enough to settle the worst of his nerves, but he still feels somewhat uncomfortable and embarrassed. 

They’ve stripped each other before, but never like this. The city lights are the only source of light in the room, and Shinji much prefers it that way. It’s a little less embarrassing in the dim light like this, but all the same he feels silly and nervous when he stands in the middle of the room, bereft of clothing. Kaworu doesn’t let him stay like that for long, tugging him towards the bed. Before long, it’s just like any other time they’ve done this; kissing languidly, enjoying each other’s bodies. 

It’s not  _ quite  _ the same, though. There’s a strange sense of urgency to this encounter. It makes everything come alight with a foreign energy Shinji’s never felt before. He doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t even know what to expect. The thought makes him wonder if Kaworu is the same. 

“K— Kaworu?” 

“Hm?” The silver-haired boy replies, distractedly, as he kisses a line down Shinji’s bare chest. 

Shinji swallows down his embarrassment. “Have you ever, err, done this before?”

“No,” Kaworu replies, and he’s not sure whether he’s relieved or not. “But I’m not ignorant of the subject.”

His mouth latches on to a nipple, and Shinji’s spine arches with the sudden shock of pleasure it elicits in his body. Yes, definitely not ignorant of the subject. Kaworu’s other hand skims up his side to rub against his other nipple, and Shinji can’t help but let out a shaky, surprised gasp. He hadn’t realized how good that could feel. 

It’s a little too much, almost, but fortunately Kaworu lets up, rising up to lean back, looming above Shinji. “I did some research on the subject, in preparation.”

“Preparation, huh?” Shinji chuckles weakly. “You were that confident it would happen?”

“No,” Kaworu replies, matter-of-factly. “But I wanted to be prepared in any case.” 

Shinji flushes, and looks away. “O— Oh.” He bites his lip. “So… how does this go, then?”

Kaworu makes a contemplative noise. “Well, that’s really going to depend on what we want to do.”

“Do?” Shinji repeats, blush rising. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there are different types of intercourse.” Kaworu explains, sounding like a textbook, as he usually does when explaining a social interaction that Shinji doesn’t quite understand. A lot of times, he has a feeling Kaworu himself doesn’t understand them either, which would explain why he uses such an academic explanation. “Depending on which we decide to do, the preparation will be different.”

“Oh, that.” This at least, Shinji knows. He’s done a bit of research himself. Probably not as much as Kaworu, knowing the other boy, but at least enough to know how it goes between two boys as opposed to the usual spiel.

“Yes, that.” Kaworu echoes, sounding amused. He tilts his head. “Well? What do you feel comfortable with?”

At this, Shinji flushes in a truly spectacular fashion. He makes an unintelligible noise, looking a bit mortified. Instead of replying, he averts his eyes and stutters out; “W— What about you?”

“I’m happy with anything you want.” Kaworu replies promptly. 

Shinji should have expected that. 

He groans, covering his face with his hands. Oh great. What does he want? Well, he has a fairly good idea about what he wants, but actually having to say it aloud...

“Shinji?” Kaworu calls, concerned. “Would you prefer not to do any kind of intercourse? That’s perfectly alright.”

“No, it’s not that.” Shinji gets out, miserably. 

Shinji peeks up at him from between his fingers. Kaworu still looks confused. Shinji mumbles something into his hands. 

Kaworu frowns slightly. “I’m sorry Shinji, I didn’t hear that.”

The boy beneath him scrunches up his brows, looking a bit pained. He thought sexual intercourse was supposed to be an event of great pleasure to humans, and up until now it seemed Shinji was included in this. Now he’s starting to worry. Perhaps Shinji is different than the other Lillin? 

“...Inside…” He manages to catch, the second time, straining to hear. Shinji lowers his hands, but still won’t meet Kaworu’s eyes. “I want to feel you… inside me…”

For a moment, Kaworu is shocked into immobility. 

He’s all at once overwhelmed with a surge of both affection and guilt. 

There’s nothing he would want more. He’s fairly sure being inside Shinji will be both a heaven and hell completely onto its own. It will probably be the singularly most amazing experience of his brief life, and he’s humbled and awed that Shinji would let him do that. On the other hand though, he is lying to Shinji. Shinji has no idea what he’s letting into his body. He has no idea what Kaworu  _ is.  _ Kaworu is an Angel— a monster, and Shinji is unknowingly allowing him inside him. 

He should tell him. No, he  _ needs  _ to tell him. He can’t do this to Shinji. Not like this. 

“... Or is that… no good?”

Shinji’s shy, shaking voice catches him off guard.

He realizes he’s been silent for too long. Long enough for Shinji to take his silence the wrong way.

“It’s— it’s wonderful.” Kaworu finds himself replying. And just like that, he’s lost his chance to confess. It’s all too easy to push away the guilt, in favor of the anticipation. “I… Shinji… I’m just so  _ happy _ .”

“Oh.” Shinji replies, happily. He pulls Kaworu down against him. “I love you, Kaworu.” He says, and Kaworu will never get enough of hearing it. 

//

_ Look, I know you’re not fond of me.  _ Kaworu says, irritably.  _ I know I’m not the one you want.  _

He pauses.

_ And I know you’re probably mad at me for having sex with your son not even four hours ago... _

This gets a response. Eva 01 is very obviously displeased.

Kaworu very nearly sighs.  _ But there is a crisis going on, and we need to work together for the time being to stop this. We both want to protect Shinji, don’t we? Isn’t that enough reason to cooperate? _

Unit 01 does not appear entirely convinced.

Kaworu wishes he could just kick the stupid thing for his troubles. Doesn’t Yui understand the dire situation at hand? Kaworu is not like his brothers, in that his Lillin shell gives him some small level of immunity towards Adam’s pull. He, at least, is not near mindless in his goal to rejoin his former body like they are. He is a threat, yes, but he is not a threat  _ right now.  _ Meanwhile, Zeruel has managed to blast through eighteen layers of reinforced barriers in the space of a second, and he will make it to Central Dogma within a matter of minutes if he isn’t stopped. 

Kaworu knows Asuka and Rei won’t be able to stop him. He  _ needs  _ Unit 01 to cooperate with him. It would be much easier if Yui had shut her soul, hid away and just let him use this shell made from Adam as easily as he could use his own body. But Unit 01 was always the most alive out of all the Evangelions. Always had a mind of its own.

A  _ stubborn  _ mind at that.

The ceiling shakes above him. 

_ I know you can see me. I know you can see into my soul.  _ Kaworu says, quickly, as debris tumble onto Unit 01’s unmoving form.  _ Can’t you see we both want the same thing? Shinji’s happiness? _

A bristle. Irritation? Jealousy?

Jealousy over  _ what _ ?

Ah.

Over Kaworu, of course. Kaworu, who can hold Shinji in his arms whenever he pleases, who can tell him he loved him whenever he wants, who can give him happiness and joy when all Unit 01 gives him is pain.

Kaworu frowns.  _ You’re the one who gave up your life for this ridiculous project. But you’re not powerless. You can still help Shinji, don’t you see? But instead you let your selfish husband use him as a puppet and lead him like a lamb for slaughter—  _

This appears to do the trick nicely. The Eva Unit’s eyes glow brightly, and then Kaworu has total control.

_ Thank you. _

Predictably, he is rebuffed in response. 

All the same, even with Unit 01’s begrudging cooperation, he knows this is going to be a difficult pit to get himself out of. SEELE will have his head for this. He’ll have to come up with an exceedingly impressive lie to hold them at bay, and even then it’s hard to say if it’ll be enough.

This has been more than worth it though, he thinks. Spending this time with Shinji, being able to spend this last night with him— it’s more than he could have ever asked for. It’s worth more than every second of his doomed life and then some. It’s priceless. He’d die a thousand times over for the brief glimpse of happiness he’s found. 

He tears through the NERV HQ, making it just in time to land a punch to Zeruel’s face before it can destroy the bridge. He’s a bit behind schedule, what with needing to argue with a surprisingly willful Unit 01 for far too long, but it appears he’s at least managed to keep this situation from becoming unsalvageable. He shoves both he and Zeruel onto the launch pad, and yells at Misato to launch them both. A quick glance at his internal power timer tells him he has only seconds left before he runs out. He gives a sigh of frustration, as Unit 01 tackles Zeruel to the ground with brutal force. 

He hates to have to play into Gendo’s hand, but there’s nothing for it now. At any rate, Unit 01  _ needs  _ to have this S2 engine. It may very well be Shinji’s only chance at saving himself, once Kaworu is no longer around. 

//

  
  


Shinji awakes in an unfamiliar nest of blankets and pillows to the midday sun streaming in brightly. At first he is confused; the sun is never this bright in the GeoFront, and never really seen at all in Kaworu’s room in NERV HQ. They’re lucky to just get some indirect light, most days. 

Then Shinji remembers they didn’t go to Kaworu’s room last night. 

Many realizations hit him all at once with all the grace of a blaring klaxon horn. 

Then he realizes there  _ is  _ a klaxon horn going off. 

_ An evacuation drill,  _ he thinks, slowly, still muddled with sleep. 

Then his eyes widen. There’s only one reason for an evacuation drill in this city.

He scrambles out of the unfamiliar bed, rushing to find his clothes. Kaworu had to leave painfully early; he had synch tests in the morning. He remembers Kaworu waking him up for it, asking if he wanted to stay here and sleep in a little longer or if he’d like to go back to HQ with Kaworu. At the time, having spent most of the night doing other things than sleeping, and still feeling rather tired and sore from said activities, Shinji had gladly opted to sleep in. And he’d slept like the dead since then, well into the afternoon, it looks like. He hastily puts on his trousers and shirt, absentmindedly realizing the shirt is slightly too big for him. He rushes out of the building towards the nearest shelter, feeling out of sorts, sore from last night, apprehensive over the idea of an Angel, and worried over Kaworu. 

His worry grew tenfold when he finally was awake enough to realize what it meant that an Angel was attacking and Shinji was no longer an Eva pilot. He was no longer the pilot of Unit 01, because Kaworu was. 

_ Kaworu.  _ Shinji near felt his legs give out on him, terrified.  _ Kaworu, please be okay.  _

//

Kaworu, to Shinji’s endless relief, everyone else’s apprehension, and SEELE’s unseen fury, is the only pilot completely unharmed by Zeruel’s attack. 

Even after achieving an unprecedented 400% synch rate, Kaworu had escaped all the chaos completely unscathed. Asuka had sympathetic injuries from having both of Unit 02’s arms lopped off, and Unit 00 was completely out of commission. On that note, Unit 01 was not faring any better. The Eva had been dragged into the bowels of quarantine for the time being, everyone too scared to go near it after it had eaten the Angel alive. They gave Kaworu the same looks of wariness and fear whenever they thought Kaworu wasn’t looking. Kaworu was completely unphased, but it infuriated Shinji to no end. Kaworu saved them all, and this is how they would repay him? They look at him as if  _ he’s  _ the monster.

“It’s alright, Shinji.” Kaworu says, but he looks tired. He went back to school today, which Shinji protested against. Both Asuka and Rei were unsurprisingly absent, after the injuries they’d sustained. 

Shinji bites the inside of his cheek to keep from letting his frustrations out on the wrong person. Kaworu has been nothing but wonderful to him, and Shinji refuses to be upset with him. Shinji is a selfish coward who doesn’t want to pilot an Eva anymore, and Kaworu is the person who’s getting hurt because of it.

“It’s not.” Shinji lets out a long breath. “How can they do this to you? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

The looks  _ he  _ gets are perfectly acceptable. No one knows what to make of him now that he gave up piloting Unit 01. They’re cordial enough, but it’s clear they look at him as if he’s some kind of failure. Maybe earlier, that would have hurt Shinji. But none of them matter anymore. Only Kaworu is important to him; Shinji could care less what they think of him. What they think of Kaworu is another matter. He’s been nothing but good to them— he’s done nothing to deserve this sort of treatment. 

“Humans hate and fear what they cannot understand,” Kaworu replies, wisely.

Shinji scowls. “ _ They’re  _ the fools who decided to use the Eva, aren’t they? If they don’t truly understand what it’s capable of, then that’s their problem.”

Kaworu nods his head in agreement. He slips his hand into Shinji’s, and the other boy leans into him, resting his head on Kaworu’s shoulder. Together, watching the sunset on a park bench, he could care less about NERV, Evas, and humanity at large. All that matters to him is Shinji’s palm in his own, the way the boy leans into him so trustingly. 

“Don’t judge them too harshly, Shinji. They are afraid. Humans do terrible things when they are scared; that’s simple nature. Animals are the same, aren’t they? A cat lashes out when it feels cornered. It does things it normally wouldn’t.”

Shinji blows a raspberry. “I guess.” He replies, glumly. “I wish you didn’t have to pilot the Eva, either. I wish we could both just run away…” 

Kaworu smiles into the sunset. “It would be lovely, wouldn’t it?” It’s all too easy to imagine. He and Shinji, living together in a city where no one knows their names. For a moment, he lets the dream wash over him, the lightest touch of a happiness he knows he’ll never get to experience. Then he shakes his head. The dream fades to dust. “But it’s alright. I don’t mind piloting the Eva.”

Shinji’s eyes lower guiltily. “I’m the reason you’re in this position.”

“I’d be in this position whether you were piloting or not.” Kaworu counters, calmly. “If not you, then one of the others. Asuka, probably, with her synch rates so low. I would prefer it this way, frankly.”

“... Really?” Shinji sounds skeptical.

Kaworu nods. “Of course. This way, I can protect you. I’d rather pilot for you, than for one of them. It’s  _ your  _ happiness that I want to ensure, no one else’s.”

Shinji blushes, but smiles as well. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“More than anything.” Kaworu replies, seriously. 

He wants to make Shinji happy, for as long as possible. With each Angel defeated, he feels his time slipping through his fingers like water. He tightens his grip around Shinji’s hand. 

“I still think that…” Shinji frowns, looking at the ground. “It still feels like running away, not piloting and all.”

“Does it?” Kaworu asks, curiously. “Why do you think that?”

“I’m not really sure.” He looks down at his other hand, the one not clasped in Kaworu’s. He still has callouses from piloting; it hasn’t actually been that long since he decided to stop. “I feel like everyone thinks I’m a coward. Asuka definitely does.”

“Soryu-san has the entirety of her sense of self wrapped up in her piloting abilities; a fallacy she’s created to feel a sense of worth. She’s absolutely the last person whose words you should take at face value. Just because she cannot comprehend a version of herself that doesn’t pilot, doesn’t mean she’s right.” 

“What about Rei?”

“Ayanami-san is also very similar. She feels she has no other reason to be alive other than to pilot. In contrast to Soryu-san though, she merely has no sense of self worth at all. Your father needs her to pilot Unit 00, so she does, even to the detriment of herself. She too cannot comprehend a life where she doesn’t pilot, but unlike Soryu-san it’s not because she refuses, but because she simply knows of no other life.”

“That’s awful.” Shinji whispers, sadly. He looks up then, eyes stricken. “What about you?”

“Me?” Surprisingly, Kaworu breaks out into a smile. “I have more important things to me than piloting. For me, it’s a means to an end. I don’t need an Evangelion to validate my existence or my happiness.”

Kaworu pauses. “Listen, Shinji. Not wanting to pilot isn’t ‘running away’. The people who tell you that are merely trying to guilt you into staying. You need to do what’s best for you and your health; you told me yourself that piloting brings you nothing but pain. Why put yourself through that?”

It’s the exact words Shinji has asked himself ever since this all started.

It occurs to him that, up until now, he hasn’t been dissimilar to Asuka and Rei. He too had nothing in his life but Eva and NERV. He had no value outside of his skill as a pilot; all the praise, comfort and kindness given to him by others was tied to his position as a pilot. No one would ever even give him the time of day otherwise. Even though he hated it, he still piloted because of the sense of validation it gives him. 

Shinji sighs. His eyes drift out to the tall spires of buildings, light peeling away at the edges. 

“Did it scare you?” He whispers, tracing lines of gold against the skyscrapers. “When the Eva went berserk on you?”

“No.” Kaworu answers, honestly. “Nothing about Eva scares me, really.”

“Nothing? Not even piloting?”

“No, not even piloting.”

Shinji is silent for a moment. Cicadas calm in the distance, their songs growing quiet with the advent of dusk. “Eva scares me. I don’t understand it, so I fear it. I’m just like them, aren’t I?”

“There’s nothing wrong with fear of the unknown.” Kaworu counters. “It’s natural to be wary of things you don’t know.”

“But not for you?” Shinji peers up at him. 

Kaworu debates the best way to answer that. Sometimes, Shinji can ask oddly insightful and difficult questions that make him want to just come clean with everything. But he couldn’t bear the look of horror and disgust that would light in the boy’s eyes if he knew the truth. 

“I know the Eva units very well.” He answers, honestly. “I was there for the creation of both Unit 03 and Unit 04, so they’re not strange to me anymore.”

“And Angels? They don’t scare you either?”

Of course not. Both the Eva and the Angels were born of Adam— born from  _ him.  _ He has nothing to fear, as far as they are concerned. It’s not the Eva units or the Angels that he fears— it’s humanity itself. 

“No, not particularly. I find them rather straightforward in fact.”

Shinji is watching him with disbelief. He supposes that is probably rather absurd, for a human to say they weren’t afraid of the Angels. But he hates to lie to Shinji, any more than he already is, so in this he’d at least like to be honest. 

“It’s getting late,” he says. “We should probably head back soon.” 

“...Yeah.” Shinji replies, but makes no attempt to move. He brushes his nose against Kaworu’s shoulder. 

Kaworu attempts to stand, but Shinji keeps him in place with a strong grip on his arm. “...Shinji?”

Shinji blushes, burying his face in Kaworu’s neck. “.. A hotel.” He mumbles. Kaworu blinks. “Can we go to a hotel?” 

He blinks again. Then Kaworu smiles, wrapping his arms around the other boy. “Yeah,” he agrees, voice low. “Let’s go.”

//

SEELE is furious, but Commander Ikari takes the brunt of it. Kaworu has no need for an Eva unit with its own S2 engine, and they know it. It’s ruining their plans, but they believe the fault to lie more with Commander Ikari than with Kaworu. He’s the one with the motive, after all. To them, Kaworu should have done more to prevent it, but they acknowledge his hands were tied. Zeruel was going to reach Central Dogma, and something had to be done. That Eva Unit 01 destroyed the Angel and devoured its S2 engine was an unfortunate setback, but a necessary one. As Kaworu reminded them, their precious Dead Sea Scrolls had written that Kaworu was to be the last Angel, and there were still two more before him. He could have defeated Zeruel without Unit 01, but it wasn’t his time to be revealed. 

In the end, they begrudgingly agree to allow Kaworu to maintain his cover piloting Unit 01, but it’s a hard won battle.

By the end of the meeting, Kaworu is exhausted. He always feels drained after having to deal with the monoliths. 

“Kaworu? Are you alright?”

Kaworu tears his eyes away from the setting sun, moving off the balcony to turn towards Shinji, who’s just entering the room. He’s wearing his uniform, most likely having just gotten back from classes. He wanders into the ensuite kitchen after he’s taken off his shoes, and returns with two glasses of water for both of them. He looks so at ease, here, in a way he hadn’t at Kaworu’s room at NERV. Probably more at ease than he had ever been at Misato’s, either. Maybe that’s not entirely surprising, though. They’ve been in this hotel room for a month now, and it’s something entirely onto their own. 

It’s been a month of nothing but pure bliss, but he knows it’s only a matter of time now before that falls apart. 

“Was it the synch tests?” Shinji asks quietly, as he curls up next to Kaworu on the bed. “But you never have any problems with those.”

Kaworu shakes his head. “It’s really nothing. What did I miss today in class?”

Shinji takes a sip of water. “Nothing much, really. It’s still weird to be in class when all of you guys are gone for tests and stuff. But it’s also kind of… nice. Being normal and all. I was asked to join the baseball team today.”

Kaworu grins. “Baseball, huh? I bet you’d be great at it.”

Shinji just shrugs. “I don’t know if I’m all that interested.” He admits. “But it was nice to be asked. I hadn’t even thought of joining any after school clubs. Maybe I should try one. Say, if you were going to join a club, what would it be?”

“I wouldn’t have any time.” Kaworu points out. Piloting is basically the after school club from hell, as far as time commitments go. 

“Just hypothetically.” Shinji grins at him. “I’m thinking… Shogi club!”

“Shogi?” Kaworu laughs. “Me? Really?”

“Yeah. You’re always so logical and strategic. I bet you’d be really good at it.”

_ I have to be, to carefully dance between the manipulations of both SEELE and NERV.  _

“Hmm, I guess I could see that. Really though, I think I’d rather be in…” He pauses. “The calligraphy club.”

“...Seriously?”

“I like things that are rhythmic and soothing. Simple things.” He smiles at Shinji. “Things that you can do over and over again, that can still bring you joy.”

Shinji blushes, eyes lowering. “Something you can do over and over again and never get tired of, huh? I think I know of something else like that.”

It takes Kaworu a moment to catch on, but when he does, his smile turns into something a little more predatory. “You do, huh?”

Shinji leans over and kisses him. 

Just for a little while longer, Kaworu wants to forget what he must do, forget that this blissful time of leisure is coming to its close, and lose himself inside of Shinji. 

//

III.

  
  


“I wasn’t expecting you, Nagisa-kun.”

“I wasn’t expecting myself either, to be perfectly honest.” The mysterious silver-haired pilot of Unit 01 replies. He looks down as the body beneath his feet twitches, and shoots it two more times.

Kaji watches as the SEELE agent seizes once more before the body lies still in a pool of its own blood on the ground. 

“And yet, you’re here.” Kaji observes, calmly. “Have you decided to kill me for SEELE instead?”

“Why do you think I work for SEELE?” The boy asks, looking genuinely curious.

Kaji blinks at him. “I have the clearance to know.” He answers, simply. “I knew you asked to be transferred to NERV’s branch in America. I know SEELE believes you to have been behind the destruction of the base and Unit 04. I know they let you live anyhow.”

“Ah. You’ve been sent to watch me, then?”

“I imagine you’ve been tasked to do the same for me.” Kaji shrugs. 

Nagisa doesn’t deny it. The curious boy merely flicks the safety of the gun he’d stolen off the agent, throwing it off to the side. So he doesn’t mean to kill him, then?

“Can I ask you something, Kaji-san?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Why did you betray SEELE?”

“I wanted to know the truth.” Kaji explains. 

“I didn’t mean to ask why you released Fuyutsuki-san; I mean in reference to Adam.”

Kaji pales. “How did you…” This goes beyond just working for SEELE. No one but the top brass of SEELE know that Kaji intercepted the embryonic Adam on behalf of Commander Ikari. No one but the upper echelons even know of its existence, at all. He studies the boy in front of him again. Not just an ordinary pilot— but then, did he expect someone sent in by SEELE to be just another regular child? 

The boy tilts his head. In the dying light, his eyes are alight like consuming fire. “Are you working for Commander Ikari, then?”

“No,” he answers, honestly. 

“Whose side are you on, then?”

“My own.” Kaji replies, succinct. “I am searching for the truth. That is all. I gave Commander Ikari what he asked for because I wanted to get closer to NERV HQ. I know the answers I seek are here.”

Nagisa merely tilts his head to the other side, in an owlish, oddly inhuman gesture. Kaji feels as if he is being picked apart and examined, the contents of his soul upturned for perusal. 

“If that is the case, then I have a favor I want to ask of you.” 

“And what favor would you ask of a dead man?” He asks with a laugh, because they both know his life is over. Not that Kaji expected himself to last much longer; the life of a spy is swift and short. A triple spy even more so. 

“I don’t want to die, you see.” Nagisa says, conversationally. “It never bothered me before, but these days I’ve realized I have something to live for. I have a reason to want to see this world thrive, and stop the Third Impact.”

Kaji frowns solemnly. “So that  _ is  _ their end goal.”

“You must have suspected.”

“To follow those Dead Sea Scrolls so closely, even though the apparent intent was to stop them?” Kaji snorts. “It wasn’t exactly subtle. I had thought, perhaps, that Gendo Ikari’s goal was in opposition to that, but the more I uncover…”

“Commander Ikari plans on enacting his own version of Human Instrumentality.” Nagisa explains. “But in the end, it is not dissimilar.” 

Kaji digests this with a defeated expression. He had suspected as much. Everyone involved with the Eva and the Angels was absolutely insane. He has to wonder if something about being in direct contact with them like this causes insanity. And if so, what does that say about him?

Still though, there is something he’s still curious about. “And where does that leave you, Nagisa-kun?”

“I want to stop the Third Impact, but in order to do so I cannot live to see my plan come to fruition.” Nagisa says plainly, ambivalent to his own death despite remarking that he no longer wants to accept his fate. 

He can’t imagine Nagisa is merely telling him this just to make casual conversation without reason. He also can’t imagine that he had just accidentally stumbled upon this scene, shot the SEELE assassin, and effectively saved Kaji’s life for no reason either. 

Kaji sighs. “What would you have me do, then?”

//

Something integral has changed.

Kaworu cannot say in particular what it is, but he wakes one day and knows something is different. 

Shinji is in his arms, languid and asleep, and usually this makes Kaworu feel warm and comfortable and he finds sleep easily with Shinji so close to him. But it’s different, now, and he doesn’t understand what changed. The boy in his arms makes a small noise of discomfort, and Kaworu realizes his hands are digging into the boy’s hips with alarming strength. He releases his grip quickly, sucking in a breath. Something is wrong here, and he doesn’t know what. 

He stares down at Shinji’s soft features, frowning slightly. 

It’s not until he’s down in the GeoFront waiting for his synch tests to begin that it hits him all at once. 

He doesn’t feel Adam anymore.

_ That can’t be right.  _ He thinks, panicked. No. It’s impossible. For his connection to just be severed like that…

“Nagisa-kun?” Ayanami looks over towards him, as he sinks onto a nearby bench. 

He doesn’t respond, staring blankly at the steel walls in front of him. 

“Don’t tell me he’s giving up on us like baka-Shinji,” Asuka scoffs, folding her arms. 

He ignores them both.

His connection to Adam has always been tenuous at best. He can always feel his bond to his former body, but never strong enough to pinpoint where he is. He can always feel Lilith though, but he imagines that’s more because of proximity and the fact that Lilith is still whole and strong. By comparison, Adam’s metaphysical energy presence is far weaker, but no less important. He is always compelled to seek his maker— and his former self— out, to rejoin it and create the world as it was supposed to be. 

It was never a conscious act on his part, but rather, an integral instinct locked within his very DNA. 

And it’s been growing stronger every day.

Until now.

_ I wonder— do you feel it too?  _ He asks Unit 01, as he settles into the entry plug. The Evangelion units are made from Adam as well, after all. Perhaps they, like the Angels, feel some kind of pull towards Adam? This directionless, restless energy that never ceases and never falters, that grows more and more each day? 

Unit 01 doesn’t answer. It never does. It’s truly not fond of Kaworu, but at the very least it’s listening to him now. 

He wonders if Unit 01 even has much longer to live. Now that it’s ingested Zeruel’s S2 engine and ascended into a higher being, will SEELE destroy it? He supposes it’s only a matter of time. Much like Kaworu, Unit 01 has a limited time of usefulness that is slowly running out. He’s surprised they’re even running synch tests for it still, what with it being decidedly out of commission and stuck in quarantine. 

When he exits the entry plug, it’s to learn that he is once again the top performer between the three Eva pilots. Asuka, predictably, is positively livid to hear this, and stomps off immediately. Rei does not have any outward reaction, but she stares at him contemplatively. He doesn’t say anything, and the two of them board the elevator back to the upper levels in silence. He feels like she wants to say something to him, but doesn’t know how. 

He’s surprised to see Shinji waiting for him as the elevator doors open. The way the boy’s face lights up when he sees Kaworu is something Kaworu will never tire of. 

The beatific smile falls slightly, as he notices who’s by Kaworu’s side. “Ayanami.”

“Ikari-kun.” Rei replies, after a moment. 

Shinji looks as if he doesn’t know how to react to her. On her part, Rei looks very similar. The moment is oddly heavy, and for some unfathomable reason the only non-human here is the only one with enough social tact to break it up, so Kaworu asks; “Did you want to get lunch, Shinji?”

At this, Shinji flushes lightly. “Err, actually, I thought I might… cook? Is that weird?”

Kaworu blinks. Then a wide smile brightens his face. “Not at all. I might die of food poisoning in the process, but I’d die a happy man.”

Shinji sputters. “I— I wouldn’t! My cooking isn’t that bad!”

Kaworu steps out of the elevator, walking down the hall. “It isn’t? There was that hamburger steak I remember…”

Shinji sputters some more, before following after him. “That was one time!” Shinji insists hotly, ears red, as he catches up to Kaworu. “What about that time I made omurice? That turned out okay!”

Kaworu laughs. “Alright, I guess that’s true. Just don’t try anything that’ll set the fire alarm off again…”

“That was one time, Kaworu! One time!”

Rei watches the two of them disappear down the corner, wondering what this strange feeling in her chest is. It hurts. 

//

“It’s very good,” Kaworu says, and he’s only lying a little bit.

The rice and miso soup came out okay, but the katsudon itself is a little too salty. He’s not about to bring that up, though. Some light hearted teasing is okay, but he doesn’t want Shinji to get so embarrassed he stops cooking entirely. Kaworu loves it, honestly, even if it does taste pretty poor most of the time. There’s something so soothing about watching Shinji in the kitchen, a smile on his face as he asks Kaworu about his day. It’s a little slice of domestic bliss he’ll probably never get to experience again, so he soaks in as much of it as he can now. 

“You don’t have to lie to me.” Shinji laughs, as he pushes his own bowl away. “Next time, I’ll definitely remember not to add so much salt.”

“It’s a good first try.” Kaworu offers. “And far better than anything I could do.”

Shinji gives him a sly look. “Why do I feel you’re holding out on me, Kaworu? I bet you’re actually a fabulous cook.”

He is, but he loves the idea of Shinji cooking for him a little too much to say so. “I can make enough to get by.” He hedges, vaguely. 

Shinji nods, looking down then. His light hearted expression falls a little. “I was thinking of going to Misato-san’s and making dinner tonight.”

That’s news to Kaworu. “Oh?” He’d been under the impression Shinji had been avoiding going back there.

Shinji shrugs. “She’s really upset, and I’m not sure why. Anyway, I thought it might be nice… but I guess maybe she might not want to see me.” Shinji looks down, and then shrugs again. “I need to probably get all my stuff from her apartment, anyway. It’s not fair to just leave it there like that.”

Then he laughs, gesturing to the space around them. “Especially if we’re just going to keep camping out here, you know?”

Kaworu laughs as well. “Ah, that’s true. I like this little camp of ours, though.”

“I do too.” Shinji agrees, smile soft and warm. 

Later, when the afternoon trickles away and the two of them are lying on the bed with the television on, he feels it again. 

Shinji is dozing off in his arms, the low drone of some trite daytime tv drama in the background. Kaworu is running a soothing hand up and down Shinji’s side, in a manner that never fails to calm the other boy and lull him into sleep. It’s working to great effect right now, Shinji’s eyes drooping lower and lower as the sun goes down. They’ll have to head off for Major Katsuragi’s place soon, if they plan on getting there in time to make dinner. But they have at least a half hour before then, and it’s far too nice, getting leisure time like this with Shinji, to ever even think about wasting it. 

His eyes lower to the long arch of skin from Shinji’s neck to his shoulder, bare skin uncovered by the blanket. He brings his mouth to the intimate expanse just below his ear, eliciting a moan of approval from the other boy. One of his hands dips down to Shinji’s chest, skimming down his stomach towards his— 

Kaworu’s eyes snap open. His hand stills on the taut planes of Shinji’s stomach, mouth leaving his neck. 

That’s… no. 

No, no, no— it can’t be.

“... Kaworu?” Shinji murmurs, eyes fluttering open. He turns in Kaworu’s arms. 

Kaworu immediately covers the horror he’s feeling with a strained smile. “Sorry, Shinji, I just got lost in thought.”

“Lost in thought, huh? Anything interesting?”

He hates lying to Shinji like this, but now it feels even more imperative than ever. “No, not really. I was just thinking we probably don’t have enough time before we have to leave for Katsuragi-san’s.”

Shinji smiles up at him shyly. “I don’t think we’re in  _ that  _ much of a hurry… are we?” His hands reach out to brush against Kaworu’s chest.

Normally he would never reject such a blatant invitation; Shinji has opened up to him more than he has anyone else, slowly but surely losing his skittish and sullen outer shell and revealing his rather shy but sweet inner personality. Getting him to actually be comfortable enough to ask for the things he wants is a recent development that Kaworu usually relishes. Especially when it comes to something intimate. But the idea of initiating intimacy right now is sickening. Not after what he just…

“We are if you want to look presentable for dinner.” Kaworu replies quickly, gesturing to the residual stickiness from their earlier activities. 

Shinji groans in response, before eventually hauling himself upright. “Fine, fine. I guess you’re right.” 

He tries to be discreet about studying Shinji’s body as they shower together. It doesn’t look any different. The boy himself doesn’t seem changed in the slightest, smiling up at Kaworu whenever he catches the other boy’s gaze on him. Shinji has grown so much in the time they’ve been able to spend together. He’s no longer the sullen and listless boy with no self-esteem and nothing to live for but piloting. He no longer puts too much emphasis on the opinions of others, and isn’t as quick to put himself down as he used to be. He’s grown so much as a person, and Kaworu can’t help but be thrilled about it. He’s not a boy anymore, but a growing young man with a maturity he hadn’t possessed before. He’s so grateful he can be here to help Shinji grow into the person he should be, a person with confidence and happiness and a sense of self worth. Kaworu is the one who has done this to him, who has helped him grow as a person, to see himself as more than just a lost and lonely boy.

Kaworu is also the one who’s done  _ this  _ to him.

He subtly brushes his hand against Shinji’s stomach again, under the pretense of washing him off. He feels it, again.  _ Something  _ pressing against him. 

It’s not in a physical sense. But he can feel the small, weak presence of another AT Field within Shinji, something different than the other boy’s presence. 

_ Another AT Field, _ Kaworu thinks, numbly. There’s only so many things that could mean. 

But how? 

It shouldn’t be possible, on so many levels. Kaworu and Shinji are both male; from what Kaworu understands, two male Lillin cannot conceive, it is physically impossible. Beyond that, Kaworu and Shinji are not of the same species. He doesn’t think Angels and Lillin are compatible, from a procreating standpoint. Or are they? He supposes he’d really have no idea. It’s not as if there’s any data available on the subject. And never, in any of the futures he’s seen, has something so catastrophic as this happened. He almost wants to break down and laugh, or cry. Nothing ever goes the way he wants it to, does it? No matter how much he tries, he can’t even have this— this small, brief reprieve of happiness. He’s not asking for much. He knows he’ll never be able to love and be happy the way the Lillin do, live a full and fulfilling life with Shinji by his side. He’s accepted this. He’s okay with what he has, what small grasp of contentment he can find. 

And now it’s all crashing down around him.

He’s silent on the walk to Misato’s. Shinji fills the air with chatter— he’s thinking he’ll try the katsudon they had for lunch again, but if not then maybe something a little more straightforward, like ramen instead. They stop by a  _ konbini  _ to grab more Yebisu beer for Misato, and a can of cat food for PenPen. Kaworu is numb for all of it. He holds Shinji’s hand nonetheless, squeezing it every once in a while to let Shinji know that he’s still here and happy to be by his side, even if he can’t make out the words right now. 

Dinner is slightly unbearable, and Kaworu wishes he had more presence of mind to do something about the oppressive awkwardness clouding the table. 

Misato ends up being happy to see Shinji, much to Shinji’s clear relief. Ever since Shinji quit piloting, he hasn’t had a real reason to seek Misato out, so they haven’t had a chance to clear the air. But as it turns out, Mistao is happy for him. She remarks that he seems much better than he had before, and that a life without the endless stress of the Eva and NERV seems to be doing wonders for him. She looks a little bit wistful when she says this. On his part, Shinji takes it all quite gracefully, thanking Misato for everything she’s done for him, and admitting he does feel better now that he’s not being forced into piloting. Misato gives Kaworu a long, level look at that, but seems to make some kind of decision regarding him. 

She even gives him a clap on the shoulder, and remarks that she hadn’t known what to think of him at first, but it’s clear he’s good for Shinji.

_ I’m good for Shinji? All I will do is bring him nothing but pain.  _ Kaworu thinks, bitterly. Even now, he’s done something unforgivable to the other boy. 

Shinji doesn’t even realize it, yet. But he can’t imagine the boy will stay oblivious to what’s going on in his own body for too long. 

There’s a monster growing inside him— a monster just like Kaworu. 

  
  


//

**IV.**

  
  


Listening to Asuka is almost unbearable. 

_ “No! No! Don’t come inside me! Stop it— It hurts!” _

Chatter from the bridge.  _ “What is going on?” _

_ “Mental contamination has reached Y levels.” _

_ “Unit 02 is out of ammunition.” _

_ “The Angel?” _

_ “Still out of range, Major!” _

Asuka lets out another wrenching scream. Unit 02 convulses, grabbing at its head. Her screaming becomes unintelligible, descending into whimpers and then nothing but sobs.  _ “It hurts… it hurts… get out of me, please…”  _

Dr. Akagi’s gasp.  _ “Her mental circuits are being torn to shreds.” _

_ “Her psychological readings are at their limit!” _

_ “Asuka! Come back!”  _ Major Katsuragi calls. 

Asuka lets out another scream.  _ “No! No!” _

_ “Asuka, this is an order. Return now!”  _

_ “No— I can’t leave like this!”  _ She shouts back, the stubborn girl, even as Unit 02 writhes on the ground.  _ “I’d rather die here than go back now!” _

The distinct rumble of Unit 00’s atmospheric rifle gathering energy above the launch pad. Then the deafening boom as the shot leaves the barrel, soaring into the atmosphere. Kaworu doesn’t need to see it to know what happens. There’s no way a man made weapon will be able to pierce through Arael’s AT Field— not at this range. 

Kaworu cannot bear it. He’s almost in as bad of shape as Asuka. Every one of her piercing screams seems to rip into his heart, as Shinji’s voice overlays with hers. The Angel is violating her, in the same way Kaworu has Shinji. 

He and Rei are supposed to be the ones up there, but unsurprisingly Asuka refused to accept this and deployed herself first. 

Technically, Kaworu is not supposed to be deployed at all. But SEELE has overridden Commander Ikari’s decision to keep Unit 01 in quarantine, so he’s here on the launch pad listening to the sounds of battle above. Over the communications, he hears Commander Ikari order Rei into Central Dogma, telling her to grab the Spear of Longinus. So that’s his gameplan, then? Kaworu shakes himself out of his own misery. Sitting down here doing nothing isn’t going to help anyone, least of all Shinji, so he deploys himself without bothering to wait to hear an order from command. He can hear Misato shout at him, but he ignores her. SEELE will back him up on this. 

If the Spear is lost, SEELE will be furious. Kaworu intercepting Commander Ikari’s plans by defeating Arael without the use of the spear will not only hinder Gendo Ikari’s plans, but will get him back into SEELE’s good graces. He needs them to still think he’s on their side, now more than ever. 

Tokyo-3 is a mess. Asuka’s rifle has tore up what could be half the city, and Kaworu spares a moment to hope one of her stray shots hadn’t destroyed the hotel he and Shinji have been calling home for the past month. 

He bypasses her comatose Eva unit, and makes for the positron gun Rei had abandoned. 

He stands in front of it, staring out into the stormy sky. 

_ (Brother.) _

To his surprise, there is immediate contact. 

_ (Tabris?) _

Kaworu blinks in surprise. It can speak? He glances at Unit 02’s unmoving form. Arael had already managed to learn that much from breeching Asuka’s mind? Well, that works in his favor, he supposes. He has some questions for his fellow Angel, and it’ll be easier to get his answers if Arael is capable of replying. 

_ (Yes.)  _ Kaworu replies grimly, staring into the clouds.  _ (You can understand me then, Arael?) _

He doesn’t get words in response this time, just a series of visions. Arael’s curiosity over Asuka’s mental state, and the things he found there. An impression of deep sadness, loneliness, despair, anger. 

_ (Yes, Lillin are quite interesting, aren’t they? Their emotions are very curious.)  _

_ (And you, Tabris? Do you feel like they do?) _

_ (I do.)  _ Kaworu answers.  _ (Would you like to see?) _

_ “Unit 01 is being attacked!” _

_ “What?!” _

_ “The Angel is using its beam to penetrate Unit 01 as well!” _

_ “Kaworu? How is he?” _

_ “His vitals are— stable. He’s not displaying the level of psychological trauma as Asuka!” _

_ “How is that possible?”  _

_ (You can’t look for very long, the Lillin will catch on.)  _ Kaworu explains gently, as he feels Arael rifle through his thoughts. 

Arael begins to retreat, somewhat reluctantly. 

_ (Love.)  _ His brother says.  _ (... What is this love?) _

Kaworu doesn’t know how to put that into words, so he uses the same sort of communication Arael had earlier. Shinji, smiling up at him shyly. His laugh in the early morning dark. The way his hand feels in Kaworu’s as they watch the sunset together. 

_ (That is love.)  _ Kaworu explains, as he pushes Arael out of his mind.  _ (It’s more than anything I could possibly explain.) _

Arael is curious, but he doesn’t attempt to probe Kaworu’s mind again. Kaworu navigates Unit 01 behind the gun, tilting it up into the sky. 

Inside the entry plug, he can hear mission control shouting about Rei’s progress. She’s about to reach Central Dogma. 

_ (Tell me, Arael. Do you feel it, still? The calling for our creator?) _

Confusion from the radiant giant. Again, it doesn’t answer with words, but a series of blanket emotions it seems to have learned from Asuka’s mind. Like a child repeating words of an adult, a string of cognizant thought forms. Fear. Confusion. Loneliness. Loss.

Arael has lost its connection to Adam as well, and it doesn’t know what to do. 

_ That must be why it’s just hovering up there,  _ Kaworu realizes. It doesn’t know what to do or where to go anymore. 

More symbols and feelings bleed through from the link, causing Kaworu to gasp. 

A sense of newness. Power. New growth. A presence that is stronger than Adam, that is calling to Arael instead. A longing the Angel doesn’t know what to do with. It’s not a longing to reunite, to merge and become one and start the world anew. But it’s nothing Arael can understand, so it is confused. 

_ Something new.  _ Kaworu thinks, grimly. Something even more powerful than Adam. What could possibly be more powerful than Adam? The only being as powerful as Adam is Lilith, and even then, they are of matched strength. 

Does Arael speak of Unit 01, then? But that can’t be right either. Unit 01 has ‘ascended’ into a being akin to a god, but it is no more a god than the other Angels. The Eva are born of Adam, just as the Angels are. Unit 01 gaining its own S2 engine merely elevates it to a status similar to that of an Angel. 

The only thing more powerful than a Seed of Life or a Seed of Knowledge would be the forbidden combination of the two. 

Is that not Unit 01, still? Created with the flesh of Adam, and the soul of a Lillin? No, perhaps that isn’t right either. After all, he has the soul of Adam, with the flesh of Lilith, and he is no true god. Neither is Rei, who carries Lilith’s soul in a body of her flesh. A true forbidden combination of both would need to be created in equal parts in body and soul…

_ Oh.  _

_ (Come closer, brother.)  _ Kaworu commands, setting the gun in position.  _ (I have need of you.) _

_ (Need?)  _ An image of a young Asuka, tears gathering in her eyes as she stares across a pane of glass at her mother. She feels useless and worthless, as her deranged mother chatters on to a doll in her lap as if it is Asuka, leaving the real Asuka abandoned. This is what Arael understands of ‘need’. To be unneeded is a fate worth than death. 

It’s impressive, really, how much Arael could learn from Asuka’s mind alone. That being said, it probably didn’t do much good for poor Asuka. 

_ (Yes.) _

In all honesty, a part of him wants to give up. It wouldn’t be so bad, to have Arael destroy him. 

But the longer he’s been with Shinji, the more he’s come to enjoy being alive. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to leave Shinji alone, not now, not when the other boy’s future is so uncertain. He thought it would be alright, to set all the pieces up so that after he is gone Shinji will have a chance to live. He thought that was enough. 

It isn’t. 

(He wants more.) 

(That’s a human trait, isn’t it?)

Maybe he still needs to die, with or without Adam. But he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. Right now, his only wish is for Shinji to live. And he won’t, with SEELE and NERV both doing their best to see Human Instrumentality to fruition. Kaworu wants to give him the best chance to stop them both, with or without Kaworu at his side. 

_ (I’m going to shoot this at you once you come in range. Before it hits you, I want you to hide yourself.)  _ Kaworu explains. 

Arael is confused, but amenable enough. It doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t need to, right now. 

_ (I’ll call you when it’s time to come out again, alright?) _

And then he shoots. 

//

“It was quick thinking on your part. Otherwise, Commander Ikari would have used the spear.” Monolith One praises. 

“To think, Commander Ikari would do something so reckless…” The third rectangle curses bitterly. 

“He is no longer in our control.” The fourth adds. 

“He must be dealt with, and soon.” Monolith One agrees. “Kaworu-kun, what have you found on Commander Ikari’s plans?”

“He is quite secretive, and he mistrusts me.” Kaworu responds, dutifully. “I haven’t been able to uncover much. However, whatever it is requires both Unit 01 and Ikari Shinji as it’s pilot, so he is, unsurprisingly, displeased with me.”

“It was good of you to convince the young Ikari-kun not to pilot.” The second Monolith remarks. “Better to keep him far from Commander Ikari’s machinations.”

Privately, Kaworu agrees.

“What do you think of the young Ikari-kun? Is he a threat?” Monolith Three presses, urgently. 

“He is a child.” Kaworu answers, honestly. “Removed from his environment, he is much like any other child his age.”

“You are keeping an eye on him, yes?”

Kaworu nods. “Although I don’t see much reason to do so. He is not a threat.” 

“Continue anyway. You never know with Commander Ikari... “

Kaworu nods again. The monoliths disappear from around him. He’s not quite alone, but all the same he allows himself a moment to press his fingers into his temple, where he feels a headache coming on. Being alive is so troublesome. But he has no other choice; not anymore. To die would be to leave Shinji alone, and he cannot bear the thought. Maybe Shinji will push him away once he knows the truth, but Kaworu will continue to protect him. There’s no one else who can protect him from both NERV and SEELE. 

“Enjoying the sunset, Kaworu-kun?”

“Katsuragi-san.” Kaworu replies, tiredly, even as he smiles in her direction. “No, not today. Although it is beautiful. And you?”

She folds her arms, stepping out of the shade of a tree she was using as a hiding spot. She observes the boy above her, atop the splintered form of a statue of Gabriel that had been an unfortunate casualty of Asuka’s meltdown. The city committee of Tokyo-3 is furious over all the damage, especially since most of it was avoidable. There’s nothing to be done of it, though. And Asuka’s in no position to be held responsible for her actions. Being invaded like that would cause anyone to go berserk… 

Except of course, for the curious Fourth Child, watching the sun set over the lake. 

She wonders what he’s doing here, anyhow. It’s far out of his usual route between NERV, school, and the place he and Shinji have been staying. It’s also odd to see him during down time like this without Shinji by his side. Very odd, that. 

“I was looking for you, actually.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Who were you talking to?”

For a long moment, those glittering ruby eyes examine her in the warm sun. It’s like staring into the inside of a volcano; some explosive, catastrophic force of nature. She feels unnerved, in the way she always does when this boy is near. Like something in her subconscious is trying to tell her something, a distinct sense of danger. The boy tilts his head, gold brushing against the side of his cheek, the curling ends of his silvery hair. All of the unanswered questions she has of him flood to the surface of her mind. 

“I was talking to SEELE.” He says then, as if he hadn’t just pulled the floor out from beneath her very feet. “They wanted an update on the situation; unsurprisingly, they weren’t very happy with Commander Ikari’s decision to use the Spear of Longinus.”

“SEELE.” Misato repeats, dumbly.

“Yes.” He tilts his head again. “You know who they are, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” She replies, waspishly. “What I want to know, is why the hell you’re in contact with them!”

“They sent me here.” He replies, simply. 

“They— “ She swallows, taking a step back. “Fuck. Of course they did.”

She looks away. The water ripples with a slight breeze, cascading shades of orange against its surface. The air is warm against her skin, the sound of cicadas loud in the twilight. 

“You work for them, then?” She asks, bitterly. 

“That’s one way of putting it, yes.” 

“Why did they send you?”

“Hmm… what an interesting question.” He looks amused. “Do you mean to ask, why did SEELE send me, or why did I agree to come?” 

Misato blinks. “Both, I suppose.”

“SEELE sent me because I asked.” He answers, easily. “And I asked… because I wanted to meet Shinji.”

“You came here for Shinji?”

“Of course. Everything I do is for him.”

This clearly perplexes Misato, but he looks as if he doesn’t expect her to understand. He stands up on the rubble of the statue, the wind catching at his hair. Stone wings unfurl behind him. Frozen, outstretched hands reach for the sun at his feet. He jumps down, walking towards her. Apprehensive, she holds her ground. 

“Why SEELE would agree to send me here is another matter entirely. They have their own agenda, as I’m sure you know. One that doesn’t serve anyone but themselves.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Misato asks, quickly, as she glances around. “ _ Should  _ you be telling me this?”

Kaji had gone to great lengths to make their communications as clandestine as possible. He seemed to think— quite rightly— that SEELE could and would find out either way. Kaji… the thought of him sends a lance of pain in her chest, but she pushes it aside. Kaji died on his own terms. As much as it pains her that he would leave her like this, she can do nothing but accept his reasonings. 

“Why?” Nagisa blinks at her. “Because Shinji will need you.  _ I  _ will need you.”

He reaches out, strike as quick as a snake. He snatches her hand folded against her, tucked into her jacket, holding her gun. She gasps, but his grip is strong and her safety is still on. He doesn’t attempt to rip it out of her hands though— instead, he points it directly at himself. 

“There may come a day when I’ll need you to do this.” He comments lightly, as he holds the gun— and her hand— to his temple. “For Shinji’s sake.”

“For Shinji’s— “ She sputters, wide eyed. “No. This will destroy him, you realize. He couldn’t— he loves you!”

“I know.” The boy’s impressive facade cracks just slightly, revealing an expression of desperation and pain beneath. 

“Then why would you—

“But it’s either this or a fate that is far worse. I’d rather have Shinji alive but devastated, then him and the entire world being destroyed instead.” 

Her eyes widen further. The hand trapped in his shakes. “What do you mean by that?” She whispers, shakily. 

Nagisa doesn’t answer her, releasing her hand and taking a step back. Her gun shakes in the air, before she returns it to her side with a wary expression. On his face is his usual distant smile, giving nothing away. She could have almost imagined the pain from before, had it not been so visceral. 

“Thank you for your help, Katsuragi-san.” He replies, dutifully. “Oh, and you should really stop having your team research myself and the Dead Sea Scrolls— I’ve become rather fond of them, and that’s a very dangerous task to give them. If you really want to know, ask me after the next angel.” 

“How did you— ?” 

Nagisa waves at her over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later, Katsuragi-san! I’ve got to pick up some stuff at the store for dinner tonight.” 

//

  
  


“Where were you today?” Shinji mumbles into his shirt, when he arrives home. “You finally have a day off, and I didn’t see you at all…”

“I’m so sorry, Shinji. I got held up in meetings.” He wraps the hand not ladden with groceries around Shinji’s back, breathing in his scent. 

“Meetings? What kind of meetings?” Shinji pulls away, taking one of the bags out of Kaworu’s hand and walking over towards the kitchen to start putting the items away. Kaworu is grateful that his back is turned; he’s not sure what kind of expression he wears. 

“The tedious kind, I’m afraid. But very necessary ones.”

“Meetings, huh?” Shinji laughs. “I don’t remember ever having to go to those. Has Misato-san gotten a little more professional?”

“They weren’t for NERV.” He says, slowly, as he enters the kitchen. 

Shinji pauses. “Huh?” He looks confused. “Who were they for, then?” 

“Do you mind if I make dinner tonight?” Kaworu asks, instead of answering. It might be the last time he gets to do this, and he wants it to be a happy memory. 

Shinji blinks, clearly caught off guard. “...Sure.”

Kaworu makes sure to steer the conversation towards lighter waters for the time being. He asks Shinji about school, to which Shinji replies rather enthusiastically. He’s made a lot more friends than he could have imagined. He’s been asked to join even more clubs. He, Kensuke and Toji have been helping out the class representative with making posters for the upcoming school festival. Shinji is convinced there’s something going on between Hikari and Toji, but neither of them will own up to it. They just get all red in the face and make excuses. Shinji was dragged off to the archery club today by a few friends of his from class; they had, quite rightly, assumed that all of Shinji’s time as an Eva pilot would make his aim rather legendary. It took a few tries, mainly because Shinji had to get used to the feel of the bow and arrow, but afterwards he never missed the mark. 

Kaworu listens to all of this with a sad, but genuine smile.

These are all good things. Shinji is growing and branching out and making connections with new people. He’s stopped hiding his heart away and has begun to open up to his peers, to great affect. He’s thriving in his environment. He’s such a far cry from the listless and quiet broken boy he’d met in the hospital that day. 

_ Shinji will be okay without me,  _ he thinks, and he can’t tell if what he feels is relief or regret. 

This world isn’t like the others he’s seen, where Shinji is nothing but a shell of a boy, torn apart by trauma and tragedy. The Shinji in front of him hasn’t withered and wasted away under the pressure of the Eva and NERV. When the day comes where Kaworu has to leave him, he can rest assured that Shinji will be strong enough to move on. 

Or perhaps, it is not Kaworu’s death that will drive them apart. 

Maybe it will be Shinji himself who pushes him away.

“Kaworu? Are you alright?” Shinji asks, as he sets his chopsticks down. “You’ve been so quiet.”

“Just lost in thought.” Kaworu denies. “How did you like the soba?”

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Shinji accuses teasingly, raising a brow. “You’ve been a fantastic cook this whole time, haven’t you?”

“I’ve had to learn how to cook for myself.” He replies, which is not untrue. 

“What sort of things can you make?”

“Soba, udon, sukiyaki, and stuff like that. Tempura, and yakitori.”

“I love sukiyaki,” Shinji enthuses, smiling. “Oh, and udon too. And soba. I always asked Misato to make it, but if we wanted noodles Asuka and I were always better off getting the instant kind from the store than trying to eat hers.” He trails off, grinning wider. “Tempure and yakitori are some of my favorites, too.”

_ I know. _

Kaworu knows how to make all of his favorite foods, and that wasn’t an accident by any means. 

“How’s your stomach feeling?” 

Shinji looks up, blinking. 

“You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” Kaworu observes. “And you haven’t been eating as much as usual.” He glances down at Shinji’s bowl. Despite proclaiming it to be delicious, and his favorite dish, he hasn’t eaten much of it.

Shinji pulls a face. “It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just a stomach bug going around— Kensuke had it last week. We’ve been on well water at the school, you know, after Zeruel ruptured the city water plant. I guess there must just be something in the water.”

If only the real reason was so convenient. 

“Shinji…”

“I promise, Kaworu, it’s nothing to worry about! I usually feel better by lunchtime.” Shinji insists, reaching for his glass of water. 

Kaworu sets his chopsticks down as well. His own dinner is barely touched. But it’s impossible to find an appetite, knowing what he must do. Armisael will be appearing any day now, and after that…

“SEELE.”

Shinji looks up at him from above the rim of his glass. “.... Huh?”

“Have you ever heard of them?”

He sets his glass down, frowning. “Err— maybe? It doesn’t really sound that familiar, though, but maybe I’ve heard it somewhere?”

Kaworu nods. “It’s not an organization people are supposed to know about. They are the ones that control NERV, and ultimately, the United Nations.”

“The UN?” Shinji’s brows rise. “But I thought the UN was supposed to be the ones in charge of NERV.”

Kaworu chuckles bitterly. “No, not quite. They’re both being pulled by a shadowy organization that only has its own interests at heart. That organization is called SEELE, and they are the ones I was meeting with.”

Shinji stares at him.

“I work for SEELE. They were the ones who created me, and they were the ones who sent me here.”

“C… Created?” Shinji repeats, horrified. 

“Yes. During the contact experiment with Adam that was the catalyst for the Second Impact. I was created using a human body and Adam’s soul.”

The silence is overwhelming.

“Adam’s… soul?” Shinji looks at him with round eyes. “So you’re... “

Kaworu looks away. “I’m an Angel, Shinji. Just like they are.”

//

#  **V.**

Shinji doesn’t speak for the rest of the night. Kaworu cleans up the kitchen and the table in silence, and afterwards goes to take a shower. 

When he exits, Shinji is gone. 

He wonders if it’s for the best, for things to end this way. 

It’s nothing he hasn’t been expecting all along, but all the same the pain takes him by surprise. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. Something so overwhelming and agonizing his body has shut itself off, much like a patient going into shock after losing a limb, his body is reacting to the intolerable levels of pain by shutting off his nervous system. He goes through the motions of getting ready for bed, and then lays in the sheets that still smell like Shinji and rests his head on a pillow that still smells like the other boy’s hair, and spends what could be minutes or hours, just lying there in silence. 

He goes to NERV HQ at first light, not knowing where else to go. He doesn’t know if Shinji will go to school today, but he decides it’s best for him not to go there anyway. School is Shinji’s safe haven now, the place where he feels normal, where he has the support and love of his friends. He doesn’t need Kaworu contaminating his safe space, not when Kaworu has already taken so much away from him.

Still, they do need to talk at some point. There are still things Shinji needs to know.

Kaworu thinks of Arael’s feelings, and the newly forming AT Field within Shinji and vows to do it the next time he sees the boy. He has no time to waste. 

//

It’s a good thing he was at NERV already, because Armisael makes its appearance so suddenly it takes everyone else off guard. 

His first glimpse of his brother is through one of NERV’s security cameras. Armisael has taken the form of a massive double-helix shaped circle hovering in midair. He wonders what it means, that the final two of his brothers have taken such ambiguous physical forms. 

Then he has no time to wonder about such thoughts, because Rei is currently up there alone and Unit 01 is refusing to cooperate with him.

He doesn’t understand— his mental state should have no bearing on his synch rates. He can set them to whatever he likes, and he can control Eva units as easily as he can his own body. Provided, of course, that they have no soul to butt heads with him at every available opportunity. 

_ Yui,  _ he thinks, exhausted, as Unit 01 refuses his commands once again. 

They send Asuka in Unit 02 while Unit 01 remains incapacitated, but she is no better. With both pilots out of commission, the situation looks dire for Rei. He can’t imagine her holding on for much longer. 

Misato stares out at the scene on the mission control screen with a curse at her lips. It’s not like Kaworu to have difficulties like this… but perhaps that was foolish of her, to rely so heavily on a single pilot. Just because his track record has been perfect so far where the other three have been erratic doesn’t mean he’s exempt from the difficulties that plague the Eva series. Ritsuko can’t give her a concise answer as to why Unit 01 won’t work— in the same way she never seems to have an answer when it comes to the Evangelions. 

_ What are they?  _ Misato stares up at the demonic visage of Unit 01’s features, feeling a shiver cross her spine. Her eyes trace up to the unseen entry plug.  _ And  _ ** _what _ ** _ are you, Nagisa Kaworu?  _

“Let me do it, Misato-san.”

Misato whirls around, shocked. “Shinji-kun! I thought you were still…”

The other boy clearly looks like hell. Just as bad as Nagisa had looked when he had arrived at base earlier, with a pallid, near sickly complexion and terrible dark circles underneath his bloodshot eyes. When Shinji had arrived at her apartment late last night, she hadn’t asked him what had happened. It was all too easy to tell, from his broken expression and the tears in his eyes. He had sobbed all night long, and she hadn’t known how to comfort him. Misato was no good at that sort of stuff. 

She had quite a few words in mind for Nagisa the next time she saw the kid, but when he arrived bright and early at the GeoFront she found her words died a still death in her mouth. Nagisa looked just as awful as Shinji had, if not worse. She realized it was remiss of her to try to barge into the situation as an outsider, so instead she displayed a surprising level of tact (Kaji must be laughing in his grave) and ignored the boy’s appearance in favor of the situation at hand. And if Nagisa appeared grateful and relieved for it, well, that was merely an unforeseen consequence.

Misato stares Shinji up and down, taking in the determined glint in his red-rimmed eyes, the decidedly resolute set to his mouth even though his cheeks were still ruddy from tears.

She didn’t know what he could even do in this state, but it was better than just sitting here. 

“Fine.” She waves to her subordinates. “Get Nagisa out of there.”

Shinji is standing on the walkway in front of Unit 01 when Kaworu is pulled out of it. Their gazes meet as he gets out, but Shinji quickly looks away.

“Shinji…” He reaches for the other boy. 

Shinji flinches back. “Don’t.” He says, and Kaworu lets his hand fall.

The dark-haired boy gets into the entry plug. Within moments, Unit 01 has turned on. Kaworu thinks it stares at him, before it’s head turns away and Kaworu is pulled off the walkway by Misato. 

//

With everyone else busy with the attacking Angel, he makes his way to the surface. 

_ (Armisael.)  _

The midday sun is blinding after being stuck in the bowels of Nerv HQ. 

The angel pauses mid-strike. 

_ (Don’t hurt him.) _

_ (Don’t hurt who? I am in so much pain, Tabris. What is this feeling?) _

That is a surprise. Even more surprising, Armisael appears capable of even more eloquent speech than Arael. Kaworu glances towards the struggling Unit 00. It learned that much from Rei’s psyche? 

_ (Why are you trying to merge with the Lillin?)  _ He asks, instead of answering. 

_ (I am confused, and I am lonely… so lonely… Where is it? The feeling I am searching for? I cannot find it.) _

_ (You’re looking for Adam?) _

_ (... Adam?)  _ Filtering thoughts, flickering past Kaworu as the Angel reaches out to him. Much like Arael, his brother finds it easier to convey things through images and feelings. 

Kaworu realizes that Armisael is feeling exactly what Arael had. However, instead of remaining stationary in a conflicted fashion, Armisael had instead chosen to seek answers for himself. He invaded Rei’s mind and body in an attempt to find what it is he was missing. In the end, he found only pain and loneliness. 

_ (It’s not loneliness— not necessarily. It’s a longing for purpose that you’re feeling.)  _ Kaworu explains. 

_ (...Purpose? What is purpose?) _

_ (The reason you are alive. Why you’re here, at all. Purpose is the meaning of your existence.) _

And with their pull to Adam gone, Kaworu realizes that they are all now without purpose. Arael, Armisael and Tabris… Angels with no place to call home, no one to long for. 

No… that’s not true. 

Kaworu isn’t like them. Kaworu has a home to return to, even if the doors to it are permanently closed off to him now. Shinji may never forgive him, but that’s alright, as long as Shinji continues to exist. As long as he’s still smiling, even if he’s no longer smiling for Kaworu. That is enough. 

_ (Purpose.)  _ Armisael repeats.  _ (I…. I have no purpose. I have nothing…) _

Kaworu doesn’t reply. 

Then, to his horror, it strikes at Unit 01.

//

_ He’s never felt like this before.  _

_ “Kaworu…”  _

_ The other boy looks up. Shinji is startled to find his cheeks are flushed, his hair damp with sweat. He’s never seen Kaworu look so undone, and it makes a warm heat curl in his stomach when he thinks that he’s the one who’s done this to Kaworu— him and no one else.  _

_ “Am I hurting you?” The silver-haired boy asks, urgently.  _

_ Shinji shakes his head with a smile. “No, no, I’m okay.” It hurts, a little, but he definitely doesn’t want to stop.  _

_ Kaworu pushes in a little more. Shinji has to fight his response to clamp down, to force out the intruder. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to stay relaxed. Kaworu sinks in further, and Shinji’s eyes flutter shut. It’s a lot of pressure, a little bit of pain, and a distinct sense of pleasure. Kaworu is inside him, and it feels— _

_ “Shinji?” _

_ —amazing. His body opens up inch by inch for the other boy, Kaworu settling inside him like he was meant to be there. Shinji feels almost uncomfortably full, but it’s not exactly a bad feeling. To have someone else inside him like this is a completely otherworldly experience; to be laid bare and vulnerable and exposed to someone else… He wants to hide, but he has nowhere to run. He's trapped here, pinned to the bed and spread wide and it should be horrifying to be so exposed for someone else's gaze and yet there's something almost alluring to the idea. Kaworu can see into all the places he has to hide— Kaworu is  _ inside  _ him, one with him, and Shinji can't hide anything from him anymore. _

_ “I’m okay,” Shinji replies, breath hitching.  _

_ “We can stop if you— _

_ “I don’t want to stop.” Shinji insists, wrapping his legs around Kaworu’s waist and pulling the other boy into him further. Kaworu groans in response, head dropping onto his shoulder. “I want to feel you.”  _

_ He doesn’t think this feeling is as much about lust as it is about intimacy. To have someone so close to you that they’re actually inside of you; to somehow be so intimately combined with someone else. It’s a little magical, he thinks, because he doesn’t feel like himself anymore. He feels changed by the experience, irrevocably so.  _

_ When Kaworu is finally inside him they’re both panting harshly, overwhelmed and on the brink of hurtling headfirst into an entirely different reality. Kaworu is still for a long moment, and while Shinji doesn’t want him to pull out he’s also grateful for the momentary reprieve. It’s not that he doesn’t want it, but it’s just— it’s a lot.  _

“Stop it!” 

_ _ Shinji wrenches back, horrified. 

A strange figure in Kaworu’s shape is across from him, standing in a blood red pool. It might look like Kaworu, but Shinji knows it’s not him. That expression… just one look at the figure’s eyes is enough to tell Shinji that this isn’t the boy he loves.

And he  _ does  _ love him, Shinji realizes with both relief and overwhelming guilt. 

He loves Kaworu. He  _ still  _ loves Kaworu, and he will probably always love Kaworu. Even if… even if it turns out he and Kaworu are mortal enemies; on opposite sides of a battlefield; too different to be lovers. 

“What is this feeling?” Kaworu asks, and the expression on his face is all wrong. The smile is too wide, too full of teeth. The eyes are too empty. They look as cold and hard as rubies, when normally when they look at Shinji they are as warm and bright as fire. 

Shinji swallows thickly. He wants to take a step back but there’s nowhere to run, as trapped inside of his mind as he is. 

“What— what do you mean?”

“This,” Not-Kaworu says, eyes empty. “It’s not what the other was feeling.”

“The other— you mean Rei?”

“The other,” Not-Kaworu confirms. “She said what I felt was loneliness.”

Shinji frowns. 

“What  _ she  _ felt was loneliness.” It adds. “There is so much pain. Why do I feel this way? Why can’t I feel like you? It feels so nice… What is it that you feel?”

That’s… a complicated question. Shinji feels a lot of things, especially when it comes to Kaworu. But what he feels most of all is— 

“Love,” he answers, simply. “That’s what I feel.”

“Ah…” The angel looks away. “It’s a nice feeling.” 

When it looks back, its eyes are deep and black and full of malice.  _ “I want it.”  _

It lunges at Shinji.

Shinji has no time to react. Unit 01 shoots out a hand to grab at the invading tendrils of light but it’s of no use; the Angel melds into the armor, piercing through it anyhow. It reaches for Shinji with an uncontrollable energy, bubbling up through his blood. Spidery veins crawl up his hands, his arms, his elbows, reaching for his heart. Shinji feels the invading Angel’s presence growing closer and closer to him, too close, close enough to enter into him, just like Kaworu has, but it's not the same, not at all. It's trying to get inside of him too, but he doesn't want it there, it's nothing like Kaworu, this is an invasion and Shinji  _ doesn't want it  _ and—

Then there is a lot of pain. 

It takes him a moment to realize it’s not coming from him. The Angel is shrieking, convulsing, curling in on itself and shrinking away from Shinji not unlike a wounded animal. Shinji watches with disbelief as it tears away, repelled by something Shinji can’t see. Wait. He  _ can  _ see it. It’s coming from him, inside him, and it looks a lot like an—

“AT Field...?”

He looks down at his hands. That can’t be right. It disappears in front of his eyes like it was never there, making him wonder if he had actually just imagined it. Or maybe Unit 01 had managed to erect an AT Field within itself? But that seemed rather outlandish. Shinji had no other explanation though; it hadn’t felt invasive, it had felt like a part of him. But the Eva had never felt like that before. He could always tell the boundary between where his own consciousness ended and his awareness of the Eva began. 

Shaken, Shinji drops his hands back into his lap. If it wasn’t Unit 01, and it wasn’t the other Angel, then it would have had to have come from… 

//

“Shinji— 

Kaworu is clearly surprised to see him. He probably hadn’t expected Shinji to actually actively seek him out, not after the way he had so abruptly left earlier. 

Frankly, Shinji hadn’t wanted to, but he had questions he wanted answers to and Kaworu was the only one who could give them to him.

“What did you do to me?” Shinji hisses lowly, and despite the bite in his tone it’s so obvious to see the naked fear in his eyes. 

“Shinji, can we— 

“No. You’re going to tell me what happened back there.” Shinji cuts him off, severely. 

Kaworu looks conflicted. His crimson eyes glance around the room. Shinji used to find them so fascinating and unique; now it’s just another indicator of the other boy’s inhumanness. He feels so stupid— so blind. He was besotted by Kaworu’s perfection, and never bothered to wonder how or why a human could be so perfect. Of course they couldn’t; of course he found Kaworu so larger than life. He  _ was  _ more than human. He was the enemy. 

“Can we discuss this somewhere else?” He asks, pained. 

Shinji frowns, mutinous. 

“Just— not here. I’ll answer whatever you like; let’s just go somewhere else.”

The locker room is empty around them, but Shinji understands. They’re still in NERV headquarters, and it’s clear that whatever Kaworu wants to say it isn’t anything he wants them to hear. In all honesty, Shinji feels the same. 

“Fine.” Shinji bit out, reluctant. 

He leads them out of the GeoFront entirely, up the endless escalators to the surface that is surprisingly undamaged despite yet another Angel attack. Armisael’s damage wasn’t of the physical kind though, so that wasn’t surprising. Rei was… well, she was alive. A lot like Asuka, her injuries weren’t the kind that could be seen with the naked eye. Rei had been awake and upright last Shinji had seen of her, but there was something distinctly off about her, even as she brushed everyone’s concerns off in her typical distant manner. She was hurt, deep within her. 

That’s what happened when humans came in contact with Angels. When an Angel invaded a human’s mind, a human’s body.

Shinji has to stop that train of thought though, lest he remember his own intimate contact with a certain Angel. 

Said Angel was a few paces in front of him, shoulders stiff as he stared resolutely ahead. 

Even knowing the truth about the boy walking with him, he still felt it difficult to connect the idea of those terrifying radiant giants to the person he’d come to know so well. 

“Do they know?”

Kaworu pauses, at the mouth of an empty park. Then he continues, descending down the path until they arrive at a courtyard, deserted from evacuations. 

“No.” He answers, as he sits on a stone bench facing the fountain in the center. Ironically, the centerpiece is an angel holding a water pitcher. “Although I’m sure your father suspects something. But nothing close to the truth.”

Shinji hesitates, before eventually taking a seat as well, as far as possible from the other boy. It feels so unnatural, to have so much space between them after all this time. The thought makes his chest hurt. Somehow, unfathomably, he  _ misses  _ Kaworu. 

“...Why…” He swallows with difficulty, staring out into the sparkling water. “Why did you tell me, then?”

“I couldn’t keep it from you any longer.” Kaworu replies, simply. As if it was truly that simple. 

Shinji laughs bitterly. “You did a fine job of keeping it from me for  _ months _ .”

Kaworu doesn’t disagree. His expression is conflicted. “It… circumstances have changed. In a way I hadn’t expected.”

This is ominous. Shinji’s shoulders tense. “What does that mean?”

Kaworu turns to him, bright eyes full of a beseeching sorrow. “Shinji, I just want you to know I didn’t mean for this to happen. I hadn’t even had any idea it was— that it was even possible, at all.”

Shinji only grows more alarmed at this. “No idea that what could happen? What are you talking about?”

“There is— “ Kaworu trails off, and for once the normally eloquent boy seems at a loss for words. “There is another… presence, inside of you.”

Shinji feels himself grow numb. His mouth opens, but no words come out. 

“I didn’t know myself until recently. But it’s… I’ve felt it.”

“No.” Shinji denies, shakily, even though he’s seen the evidence himself. 

“I felt it again, earlier, when Armisael tried to attack you.” Kaworu presses on, even as Shinji’s face steadily begins to lose color. “It was even stronger than before.”

“ _ No _ .” Shinji says again, voice rising. 

Kaworu looks at him imploringly. “Shinji, please—

“ _ No! _ ” He stands upright, eyes frantic and wide with panic. “You’re lying. You’re lying!”

“I would never lie to you.” Kaworu returns, voice damnably even. “Shinji, I’m so sorry— 

“How did this happen?” He asks, horrified, feeling his breath coming in short spasms. He can’t even— he can’t comprehend this. He’s torn between feeling nothing but the cold numbness of horror and the overwhelming onslaught of pure fear. 

The look in Kaworu’s eyes is telling. As if he wishes he didn’t know the answer. “I… I can’t say for certain. But, well, there is one obvious way…”

Shinji is going to be sick. 

Oh god. 

He  _ has  _ been sick. He’s been sick for days now. And it had nothing to do with the water at school. It was— 

He really does get sick then, dropping to his knees and dry heaving. There’s nothing to come out though, since he hasn’t eaten since dinner last night, and he’s been sick plenty since then. 

Kaworu shouts his name in alarm, and tries to reach for him. 

Shinji shrinks back. “Don’t touch me.” 

Kaworu freezes in place, feeling helpless as he watches Shinji curl in on himself, head bowed, breathing ragged. He struggles to his feet, and when Kaworu gets a good look at him he sees— the boy looks awful. Sick and scared and like he hadn’t slept properly last night, which he probably hadn’t, and like he’d fought off a god-like creature and won, which he had. He backs away from Kaworu, staring at him like… well, like he should. Like Kaworu is a monster, and he’s finally seeing the truth of it all. Kaworu wants to hide from that gaze, but he knows it’s pointless. More than that, he knows he deserves the look of pure horror. What he’s done to Shinji is unforgivable, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t even know if he  _ can  _ fix it. 

All the same, he has to try. 

“Shinji— 

“Don’t.” Shinji cuts him off, and his voice isn’t full of hatred or disgust— it’s much worse. It’s flat and empty, as if nothing matters to him anymore, including Kaworu. 

He turns away then, and Kaworu can only watch as he walks away. 

//

Shinji doesn’t know how long he stands in the kitchen, but at some point the sun is high in the sky, then it is low and burning, and finally just not there at all, and Shinji is still standing in the middle of the kitchen. No one has returned to Misato’s apartment. It is silent and dark. Even PenPen isn’t here. Shinji is entirely alone— 

No. Not entirely. 

He is as still and emotionless as stone, features impossible to read as day turns into night. He’s stood here for what could be minutes to hours to all of eternity, staring emptily with the kitchen knife in his hand. 

He still feels numb, and cold, and full of a nothingness he can’t place. It’s not shock or fear. It’s not anger or hatred. It’s just… absolutely nothing. 

When he turns the knife on himself, he still feels nothing. In a way, the emptiness is comforting. The absolute lack of emotion is somehow rather soothing; there is nothing to fear, because he feels nothing at all. He is so detached he is a person looking in on himself, an impassive bystander to the spectacle of a life he doesn’t care about. 

He holds the tip of the knife to his own stomach, and if there are thoughts going through his head he doesn’t know them. 

It’s only after one eternity has come and gone into another that he surfaces, and realizes he’s standing in total darkness in Misato’s kitchen. He returns to his body in slow pieces; observations filtering in slowly. It’s nighttime. The microwave clock is broken, blinking a string of beady red zeros from a recent power shortage; not an uncommon occurrence in this city. He’s still wearing the school uniform he hasn’t changed out of since yesterday. The bowl of ramen Misato had tried to coax him out of his bedroom with is still where she probably left it when she'd given up last night, sitting on the side of the kitchen sink. The sink itself is full of dirty dishes; the counter is littered with yebisu bottles. 

He’s holding a knife to his stomach and his hand is shaking. 

He abruptly drops the knife, the metal clattering against tile. He stares at it with wide eyes, uncomprehending. Then he sinks to the ground, leaning against the back of the sink. He rests his head on his knees and closes his eyes. 

//

**VI.**

  
  


When he opens his eyes again, he’s in bed. It’s his bed at Misato’s place; he can tell from the slant of the mid-morning sun and the way he can feel it even when he quickly closes them again. He rolls over, irritated as always by the unfortunate wake up call. Where is Misato, anyhow? Usually by now she or Asuka are up making a noisy commotion if it’s the weekend, or are barging in to wake him up for school if it’s not. 

Then his memories come flooding back to him, and he realizes he shouldn’t be in his bed at all. He should still be on the kitchen floor. Someone must have moved him.

“...Misato-san?” He croaks out.

There’s a shift of cloth in the room, and the whisper of movement as someone moves for the door. 

When Shinji opens his eyes again he catches Kaworu moving towards the open doorway. 

Somehow, he is so empty and exhausted that he just doesn’t have enough in him to keep hating the boy he’s come to love. 

“Kaworu,” he says, and the silver-haired boy pauses at the threshold.

When Shinji says nothing else, he slowly turns around. 

Their eyes meet. For a long moment, neither of them say anything, merely holding each others gazes. Finally, Kaworu looks away. 

Kaworu lets out a long breath. “I understand what you wanted to do, but… don’t use a knife.”

Shinji stares at him blankly. “What?”

“I know you want it out of you, but a kitchen knife probably won’t do much but injure you.” 

_ Oh.  _

Shinji scrubs a weary hand over his eyes. “Oh. I… I wasn’t… I mean, I know. But I was just trying to…”

To be honest, he’s not entirely sure what he was trying to achieve last night. There wasn’t a lot of logical thought going on then— or any thought, at all. He’d basically been functioning on autopilot, as if his conscious was so incapable of comprehending what had happened to him that it had simply shut off. Even now that he had hours to adjust, he couldn’t say he was any closer to accepting it. 

Maybe he  _ had  _ been subconsciously trying to cut it out of him last night. Maybe he was just trying to injure himself. Maybe he just wanted to feel pain, just feel  _ something.  _ Or maybe he just didn’t want to feel anymore, at all. Maybe he had wanted everything to end. 

“I don’t know what I was doing.” He admits, blankly. “I guess I just wanted to escape it all somehow.” 

There was no running from this, though.

Unless of course, Shinji was trying to run straight into the arms of death. 

Kaworu must have clearly come to the same conclusion, for his look turns stricken. 

He walks closer, eyes full of pain. “Shinji please… Please, just don’t…” He looks so horrified he doesn’t even seem capable of voicing his fears aloud. “I know I have no right to tell you to do anything, but please, I’m begging you, just don’t do  _ that _ .”

He is so surprised by the amount of visceral emotion in Kaworu’s expression that he’s at a loss for words. He’s never seen the other boy look so vulnerable, so scared. He’s never seen real fear light in his eyes like this. 

To his shock and disbelief, Shinji realizes there are tears in Kaworu’s eyes. He nears Shinji’s bed, reaching for Shinji’s hand laid out atop the sheets. His grip is strong, but his hand is trembling.

“There’s no point in this world without you, Shinji. Everything… everything is meaningless if you’re not here.” He croaks out. 

Shinji stares up at him with wide eyes. “...Kaworu…” 

Maybe Kaworu is an Angel. Maybe he is the enemy. But he cries real, human tears, and he  _ loves  _ with real, human tenderness, and he cannot bear the thought of a world without Shinji. 

“I— Kaworu, I just don’t understand…” He starts, quietly. 

“Don’t understand what?” The other boy returns, just as quiet. 

Shinji shakes his head. “Why? Why me? What’s so important about  _ me _ ?”

It’s something he’s never understood. 

What does Kaworu see in him? He’s nothing, and everyone else in this world seems to know that. His only worth is his ability to pilot Unit 01, and even then he’s not all that great at it. Definitely not as good as Kaworu is. He’s not as dedicated as Ayanami is. He’s not as talented as Asuka is. He’s not really good at anything, and he’s not really all that interesting, and he’s not really smart or really talented. There is nothing about him that’s interesting. There’s nothing about him that’s— that’s  _ worthy  _ of this. This love, this devotion. 

He doesn’t understand it at all. He doesn’t understand  _ Kaworu  _ at all.

Kaworu is an Angel. A radiant being, as close to a god as humanity has ever seen. Why would he even give Shinji the time of day? Why would he cry at the thought of a world without him? 

“Everything about you is important to me, Shinji.” Kaworu replies, in that infuriatingly calm way of his. As if it is so natural a statement. As if it makes any sense, at all.

Shinji makes a frustrated noise. “But  _ why _ ? Why did you even bother with me? Why did you visit me in the hospital after Leliel? You didn’t even know me.”

“Yes, but I loved you.” He answers, steadily. “Shinji, I have  _ always  _ loved you.”

Shinji stares at him blankly. 

Kaworu looks away, expression pensive. “Time is different for me— it’s not linear. There is no past or future to me, I see all of it at once.”

If anything, his confusion only doubles. Or maybe triples. 

“What does that mean?”

“That means, even if we’ve never actually met before, to me we’ve met many times.” Kaworu smiles at him, but it is wan and sad. “I know it’s a difficult concept for humans to grasp, but I have awareness of different loops of time; each with a different beginning or end.”

Shinji’s brows crease. “So it’s almost like… seeing the future?”

Kaworu nods. “Yes, that’s one way of putting it. Like seeing a lot of futures.”

He hadn’t realized Angels were capable of that, but then again he’s never had the opportunity to communicate with them. 

Shinji nods, frowning. “That still doesn’t explain why you fell in love with me in the first place, though.”

At this, Kaworu smiles again. This time, it is small, but fond. “Well that is an interesting question. Why does anyone fall in love, at all? I’m not entirely sure how to go about explaining it: I love you because you always do your best, even when you want to run away; because even when you know you’ll fail you try anyway; because you can smile when everything is falling apart; because even though you don’t want to, and even though you know it hurts you connect with people anyway. You are nothing but illogical contradictions, but I love that about you.”

Shinji stares at him, stunned. 

Kaworu has always said he’s loved him, but it occurs to him that the boy has never explained why, and so Shinji had always found it a little hard to believe. He knew Kaworu meant it when he said he loved him, but he’s also always thought that maybe the other boy just  _ thought  _ he was in love with Shinji. It’s the first time Kaworu’s ever explained why he loves him, and even though Shinji still doesn’t really understand, he can at least understand that Kaworu means it honestly and wholeheartedly. Kaworu is right; why does anyone fall in love, at all? It’s a difficult question for anyone to answer. Even Shinji doesn’t entirely know why he loves Kaworu, even though he knows for certain that he does. 

“Was that the answer you were looking for?” Kaworu asks, sounding genuinely curious.

Shinji lets out a little laugh. “No, definitely not.” He replies. “But I’m not really sure there  _ is  _ a right answer to that question, so that’s okay.”

He curls his hand a little tighter around Kaworu’s. He doesn’t miss how the other boy’s eyes light up at the touch. 

“I don’t really know why I love you, either.” Shinji confesses, quietly. “I know I shouldn’t. I know you’re a… a—

“Angel?” Kaworu fills in, when Shinji struggles to do so.

Shinji nods, biting his lip. “I don’t know how to come to terms with that.” He admits, quietly. “But I also don’t know how I’m supposed to live without you.”

Kaworu sucks in a breath. “Shinji— 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, voice breaking. “If you really loved me, wouldn’t you have been honest?”

“It was because I love you that I lied.” Kaworu replies, evenly. He rubs his thumb against the back of Shinji’s hand. It’s dry and warm, and very much so alive. They’re both still alive, and that in and of itself is some kind of miracle. “I knew I didn’t have much time, and I wanted to spend all of it like this, with you.” 

“Didn’t have much time?” Shinji repeats, eyes widening. “What does that mean?”

Kaworu smiles grimly. “I might be more human than them, but in the end, I’m an Angel too. I’m the same as they are— I have the same purpose.”

Shinji’s grip goes limp in his own, but the boy doesn’t pull his hand away. “T— Third impact.” He whispers shakily, horrified. 

Kaworu nods. “Sooner or later, I wouldn’t be able to resist it. I would be compelled to seek out Adam. And… you would have to kill me.”

“No.” Shinji says. “I— no. I couldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t have a choice.” Kaworu points out, steadily. “And I’d have wanted it to be you. I am the Angel of free will, and choosing your own death is the greatest freedom there is. But I understand that would be a difficult thing to ask of you.”

“How could you make me do that?” Shinji asks him, horrified. 

“It’s selfish of me, I know.” Kaworu agrees. “But I’m not even sure if that’s necessary, anymore.”

Shinji blinks, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

Kaworu is quiet for a long moment. 

He laces his fingers with Shinji’s, and is pleased when Shinji doesn’t make to pull his hand away. 

“How much do you understand about this current conflict?”

Shinji tilts his head. “You mean, the war between the humans and the Angels?”

Kaworu nods.

Shinji hesitates, before shrugging. “I know the Angels are trying to connect with Adam and create the Third Impact. I know the Third Impact would be just as disastrous as the Second— Misato-san says that if the Angels accomplish their goal, humanity will cease to exist.”

Kaworu tilts his head. “She’s not wrong.” He agrees. “But do you know why the Angels want to cause the Third Impact?”

Shinji shakes his head.

“It’s a long story— one that starts over four billion years ago.” Kaworu begins. “Adam is a being called a ‘Seed of Life’. There are two types of Seeds of Life, bearing two types of fruit: the Fruit of Knowledge, and the Fruit of Life. Humanity comes from the Fruit of Knowledge; they are of fixed and mortal form, and rely on collective knowledge to thrive.”

“The Angels are the progeny of the Fruit of Life; they are immortal beings of infinite power, who decide their own forms. But Angels and humans were never meant to exist in the same world like this. Four billion years ago, the moon carrying Adam arrived on Earth. Soon after, another moon carrying a Knowledge-type Seed of Life, called Lilith, abruptly crashed into the Earth and started what is referred to as the First Impact. But two types of fruits cannot coexist together, so Adam was put in a suspended state, while Lilith was left to populate this planet.”

Shinji’s brow furrows. “So humans… came from Lilith?” He repeats, frowning. Kaworu nods. Shinji is still confused. “Does— who knows about this?”

Kaworu makes a noncommittal noise. “There are a select few who are aware of this. Your father, for one. Doctor Akagi, I would imagine. Most of the higherups of both NERV and SEELE. That’s why they knew the newly awakened Angels would come for Adam.” 

Shinji shakes his head. “I still don’t understand that. Why do you want Adam so badly? Do Angels hate humanity that much?”

“It’s not a matter of hate.” Kaworu returns, collectedly. “Angels do not have emotions like humans do. It’s nothing personal; it really has nothing to do with humanity at all. To Angels, Earth was supposed to be theirs. We are compelled by something even stronger than instinct. We seek out Adam to cause the Third Impact because that’s just survival. All creatures seek to propagate the continuation of their race; however in this instance, in the process humanity would be wiped out as collateral, because two different types of Fruit cannot coexist together.”

Kaworu looks contemplative as he adds, ominously; “Or, that is how it is supposed to be.”

“It’s not like that anymore?”

“No.” He stares down at his hands. “I don’t feel it any longer. I don’t feel Adam any longer. There’s no pull driving me to find him. It’s not… this has never happened before. I can’t say for certain what’s changed… but I have some theories.”

Shinji watches him with trepidation. He swallows thickly. “What… what does that mean?”

“I think it means that there is a being that is even more powerful than Adam or Lilith now, a being that supersedes both of them, that has nullified my connection to Adam.” 

Shinji stares at him blankly. 

“No.” Shinji says. 

Kaworu sighs. “Shinji…”

“No,” Shinji says again, looking bewildered. “You’re not trying to tell me that whatever presence you said you felt inside me is, like, some kind of  _ god  _ or something.”

“The coexistence of the Fruit of Knowledge and the Fruit of Life is never meant to happen strictly  _ because  _ their union is so forbidden. To have a creature that has both is synonymous with a god, yes.”

Shinji shakily places his hand over his stomach. “And this… this  _ thing  _ is both? It’s this— this forbidden union?”

Kaworu nods. “Yes. Our souls have intertwined and created a being that is part of both of us. You, born of the Fruit of Knowledge and myself, born of the Fruit of Life.”

Shinji doesn’t say anything. His eyes slip shut. Kaworu watches him worriedly, as his face rapidly loses color. 

And then, he says, “I’m going to be sick.”

//

He nimbly avoids heaving out bile, but it’s a near thing. The nausea subsides, leaving him once again feeling him vacuous and hollow. Kaworu’s words swirl around endlessly in his head, neither absorbing nor drifting off in the steam of the shower. Shinji stares blankly at the water swirling down the drain, and feels as if it is a mirror to the inside of his own head. 

It’s so strange to think that not even twenty four hours ago he was facing down an Angel. Just two days ago he was still lost in a wonderful, blissful peace he’d never felt before in his life. Everything was so idyllic, so perfect. He felt normal— even happy— for the first time in his short and worthless existence. He had Kaworu, and he had his friends, and he had his life that was making progress one slow step at a time. He was slowly discovering himself; his likes, his dislikes, his dreams and aspirations, his wants and his needs. 

His eyes slide shut. 

All of that is gone now. 

Like water down the drain.

Shinji places a shaky hand on his stomach.  _ There’s something in there,  _ he thinks, and he doesn’t know if he’s disgusted or terrified, so in the end he feels nothing but numbness.

Then a thought occurs to him.

No, not just  _ something.  _

Something that is both a part of him and a part of Kaworu. It’s not some strange and alien parasite invading his body and taking up residence in his stomach. Some foreign presence that doesn’t belong. It’s not something that came from nothing; it came from Shinji, and Kaworu. From the union of both of them. Nevermind the fact that Shinji is apparently the progeny of something called a ‘Fruit of Knowledge’ and Kaworu is the progeny of something called a ‘Fruit of Life’. They are Shinji and Kaworu, and this little thing is a bit of both of them. 

Shinji begins to laugh, somewhat hysterically. 

It’s a  _ baby _ , is what it is.

Kaworu keeps talking about how it’s some kind of forbidden union, some sort of higher being that transcends existence as Shinji understands it. Like it’s a god like entity that formed somewhere in the ether of the vastness of the universe, and now just happens to have taken roost in his stomach. Maybe it is some kind of higher being, but that doesn’t make it any less a part of both of them. 

Shinji turns off the shower, stepping out into the steam. 

He doesn’t know if that makes him feel any better, per say, but it does make him feel a bit more settled. 

Kaworu is waiting for him when he gets out of the bath.

The silver-haired boy looks nervous and wary in a way he never does, especially not with Shinji. He’s seen so many emotions from Kaworu in these past few days; fear and sadness and terror and self-consciousness. It’s strange, but despite all that he’s learned about Kaworu, it makes the other boy also seem so much more human. He’s not just some perfect creature. He has things he fears and things he can’t bear to see, just like everyone else. 

Kaworu looks like he’s waiting for Shinji to say something. He probably expects more questions, or even a bit of yelling. 

Shinji doesn’t say anything, merely offering his hand wordlessly. 

Kaworu takes it. 

He walks them out of Misato’s apartment, down the block, and out of the neighborhood. 

Kaworu isn’t even certain where they’re going. It’s not until Shinji takes a turn at a familiar vending machine that he realizes where Shinji is leading them to. He recognizes this block; it’s the closest thing he’s ever had to a home. There’s the ramen shop they stop at sometimes when Shinji really wants noodles that didn’t come out of an instant meal. The twenty-four hour convenience store they frequent at all hours of the night for everything from simple groceries to school supplies. The rowdy bar that always makes it impossible to keep their windows open on a weekend night. 

They bypass the lobby and use the side entrance. Shinji swipes his keycard at the door, and it clicks open. They ride up the elevator in silence. Kaworu wants to ask, but he doesn’t want to ruin this small sliver of hope he has. 

The place is just as they left it, because this is not the sort of establishment that cares about housekeeping service. It’s seedy and shady and somewhat run down and not in a great part of town but Kaworu could care less about all of that, because it’s  _ theirs.  _ A little place they can call their own, removed from both of their lives. 

Shinji takes his shoes off at the door, and Kaworu follows suit. He turns into the kitchen. 

“Hungry?” He asks, and Kaworu is so stunned he almost forgets to reply. 

“I could eat.” He replies, genially, after an offbeat of silence. 

Shinji just turns to the cupboard.

They don’t have much, because the kitchen isn’t really big enough to keep much in the way of groceries. If Shinji wants to cook something more elaborate than a microwave meal he has to go and buy things specifically for the endeavor. As they hadn’t stopped by their usual convenience store, Shinji unsurprisingly takes out bowls of instant udon and turns on the hot water heater. 

Shinji returns to the table with two cups of tea, sitting next to Kaworu.

Kaworu watches him, somewhat bewildered and exceptionally confused. Finally, he can’t hold it in any longer. “Shinji.”

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing here?”

“Eating— probably sleeping if it's all the same to you. I'm still pretty tired.” Shinji returns, drily. 

Kaworu frowns. “You know what I mean.”

At this, he gave a half shrug, running his finger around the edge of his mug. “I don’t know how I feel about you being an Angel.” Shinji says, quietly. “But I do know how I feel about  _ you.  _ And… I guess that’s all that really matters.” 

Kaworu isn’t entirely sure what to say. 

“I love you, and I love being with you.” Shinji adds, simply. “It seems silly to waste that, when there’s no telling how much time we have left with each other.” 

Kaworu stares at him with wide, stricken eyes. “Shinji…” He swallows. “Are you really… okay with all of this?”

Shinji shrugs again. “I don’t know if I am, yet. But I think I’m coming to terms with it.”

Kaworu looks conflicted, as his bright red gaze searches Shinji. “And what about the— the presence I felt inside you?” 

Shinji sighs. The hot water heater dings on the counter, and he stands up to grab it. 

“I don’t really know how I feel about that yet either.” He replies, as he pours the water into the cups. “But— it’s a part of you, and me. It’s hard to find the thought unpleasant.” 

Kaworu sits, stunned. Shinji places the bowl in front of him, and then moves to dig into his own.

He… he hadn’t ever thought of it that way. 

He knew just from sensing it that it was something  _ other.  _ A new presence that wasn’t supposed to be there. Another  _ Angel.  _ The AT Field was telling in and of itself, and it was growing stronger every day. It was even powerful enough to fend off a fully fledged Angel, and it wasn’t even alive yet. It was dangerous. It could prove to be a danger to  _ Shinji.  _

But Shinji wasn’t wrong, either. It was a part of the boy. And Kaworu loved every single part of Shinji; he couldn’t imagine the thought of not loving something that was made from him. That was made from both of them, created with love. 

Shinji was right; it was hard to find the thought unpleasant. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> v sorry it is unfinished. Maybe one day I'll finish it. I've been saying that since 2008 though so maybe I am a liar -.-"


End file.
